


The Stowaway

by Rae_Saxon



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, but most importantly, they fight, they fluff, they laugh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: After the unfortunate Judoon prison incident, the Doctor is left without her TARDIS. Getting the Master to come to the planet she's crashed onto in her escape wasn't that hard, actually. Sneaking into his TARDIS wasn't either. Living in there unnoticed.... err... well, she had tried her best. That counted for something. Right?
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 172
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame that one Spyvember prompt. The thought just didn't leave my mind. I've no clue how long this is going to be. But I'm having fun. It won't have daily updates though, that much I can promise you... :'D  
> .. It says 1/1 chapters for some reason even though I clicked on multiple chapters multiple times. Sigh.

So, things weren't optimal right now.

Nothing the Doctor couldn't handle. In fact, she thought, as she cowered underneath the Master's bed, boots clutched to her chest, she was handling it rather well.

He was yawning softly above her, the bed squeaking as he shifted and the slight dip of the mattress brushed her hair, leaving her with goosebumps as she held her breath, trying not to make a sound.

Okay.

Maybe she could've handled it a little bit better. She hadn't expected him to go to sleep that early just as she hadn't expected that first door on the left to be his bedroom.

Again, the Master shifted above her and she pressed herself closer to the floor, face scrunched up in worry. Truth was, she wasn't sure what he'd do if he find her, cowering here in his TARDIS, homeless and desperate.

Probably laugh at her. Never let it go ever again. The absolute smugness on his face alone was bad enough, she didn't have to remind herself that this unpredictable incarnation of his might actually end up killing her, too.

She really thought it was safer to hide down here. Wait until he was asleep and sneak back out, into the furthest corners of his TARDIS. To wait.

Eventually, he had to go back to Earth, right? He hated it, granted, but for someone who hated it, he sure spent a lot of time there.

It wasn't the worst place, Earth, to settle down. Not that she actually cared about settling down much, but... she didn't have much of a choice, did she?

The Doctor bit her lower lip to keep herself from a tense sigh.

Alright. Alright. Time to focus on the good things. So she'd lost her TARDIS to open space and would probably never find it ever again. So Gallifrey was destroyed and with it every possibility to steal herself a new one, even if she felt like replacing her ship. So the Master was now in possession of the only TARDIS left in the universe.

There was a positive side to this. She'd... learn resilience. Even more resilience. She'd be so bloody good at resilience.

This was just the first lesson in it, she figured.

Her shoes smelled badly.

Above her, the Master's breathing evened a little and she heard the tender beginnings of a light snore developing. Good. Very good. She'd wait a few more minutes, just to be sure he was fast asleep and then sneak out on her tip-toes and...

He shifted again. His movements had become faster, more frantic. She could hear his hand slapping the bare mattress. Any other person, she'd be confused about, but she knew him, knew him better than he cared to admit. Knew the little whimpers escaping his lips, the mumbled syllables. In all the years, all the changes he'd gone through, that had never changed.

He was having nightmares.

“'s fine, you should have,” she mumbled under her breath. “Bloody deserve them. Meanwhile...” She crawled out from under the bed, kneeling next to it for a second, watching the Master thrash in the sheets. “Meanwhile I'm living in one,” she finished with a sigh.

There was a thin film of sweat on his forehead, shimmering lightly. His face was pale, his lips half open, as another tortured sound slipped out between them.

“Are you dreaming of Gallifrey?” she wondered with a low voice, the cold rage she'd been carrying in her chest making her forget all about the worry of being caught, for a moment. “Are you dreaming of our world in ashes? Is it haunting you like it haunted me?”

He didn't reply, didn't even flinch, his mind still somewhere in the hell of his own making. Nothing she could say right now that was worse than what he went through. Nothing she could say to snap him out of it.

She should go.

Go, before the ache in her hearts turned out to be pity rather than all-consuming rage. Go, before she did something stupid they both knew he didn't deserve.

Still on her socks, the Doctor sneaked towards the door, opening it soundlessly and pressed through the crack out into the corridor. She turned back once more, watching him kick away his blanket as if it was an invisible enemy, sneaking up on him.

What a life he must lead, she thought sadly. Constantly battling demons that aren't there.

She closed the door gently, running down the corridor on light feet, her bare feet leaving thuds on the metal grating beneath her.

“So,” she whispered to his TARDIS as she passed a corner and headed for the next. “You let me in. I appreciate that. Didn't rat me out. You and I, we went through some stuff, eh? We get along? Do you think you could help me out one more time?”

She reached the end of the corridor she'd been running in, opening the door that had just appeared before her. A dark, stuffy room, the taste of dust still in the air, with a little, untouched and cold bed in the corner. There was a naked light bulb on the ceiling, no window, but a little shelf with books in it. It wasn't much and it carried the heavy undertone of yes, his TARDIS let him in and but it sure as hell was still sceptical.

“I'll take it,” the Doctor sighed. “Thanks.”

With an exhausted grunt, she let herself fall onto the bed. The covers were cold to her touch and she shivered, pulling them closer around her in desperate hope for them to absorb some of her warmth.

It felt strange and unhomely. Stars, she missed home.

Distantly, the Doctor wondered how her TARDIS was doing. Was she floating through the cosmos, watching stars without her. Was she crashing into planets or ships, had she been collected yet, broken open, tormented or simply ignored, as she made her way through the galaxies without her?

For all she had mocked the Master, she knew, as soon as the exhaustion sitting in her bones overcame here, she'd end up in the same nightmare world, shadows and demons ready to haunt her like they haunted him.

“We've always fought the same battle,” she muttered sleepily, eyes falling shut whether she liked it or not. “I dunno how we ended up on different sides.”

  
She woke up disoriented quite some time later, the smell of eggs and bacon in her nose. With a groan, the Doctor sat up, strange, silky blanket falling off her body, reminding painfully that this wasn't home.

“Bloody Judoon,” she muttered, feeling a sting of pain. “Only species I know to just throw a TARDIS into space.”

She looked around the room. Nothing had changed over night and she was almost thankful for it. Maybe, if she just got used to this room...

Her stomach growled.

Did she smell pancakes? Who the hell made such an elaborate breakfast for themselves after what had obviously been a hell night? He was insane.

Of course, she knew that already.

With a tired sigh, she rolled herself out of bed, getting back on her tip toes as she sneaked out into the corridor, following the delicious smell of promising breakfast. It led her to the Master's kitchen, where he was busily standing at the stove plate, swivelling a pan.

She hid behind the door frame, only half of her face peeking into the kitchen, ready to draw back whenever he would turn around. But the Master didn't seem to notice her at all, he was far too busy with his eggs, humming a little tune with dark, hoarse voice.

He wasn't doing well. Somehow, all the signs pointed against it and yet she felt it immediately, felt it in her bone like she felt the time of the universe running through her bloodstream.

Which meant he'd eat half of the eggs, maybe a slice of bacon and then give up, leaving more than enough for her. Especially the pancakes she'd just discovered lying on a plate, untouched.

It was risky, sure, but if she stood here any longer, he'd catch her from hearing her growling stomach alone, so the Doctor decided to leave it to her luck and sneaked in, eyes always on his back, as she headed for the table behind him and grabbed some of the pancakes with bare hands.

Damn, hot, hot, hot, hot!

With a hiss she hoped he couldn't hear over the gentle oil cooking in his pan, she jumped back down the corridor, trying the only thing she could think of to relieve her hands of the pain of carrying scolding hot pancakes – By stuffing them into her mouth all at once.

“Ow!” she called out with voice muffled by pancakes and immediately regretted it, slipping into the next best room in case he had heard. But in the distance, she still heard the Master shuffle around the kitchen, humming a tune that sounded sadder and sadder the longer it went on.

With a relieved sigh, she leaned back against the door – Only to jump back into a straight position as she found herself face to face with a half-cracked open Dalek.

“Uhm,” she brought out, eyes wide.

“Ex... ex...” the Dalek tried.

“You know what,” she interrupted it, shaking her head in mild amusement. “I don't know why I'm surprised. He would keep a Dalek in his TARDIS. What for, I'm not sure. But he'll have some ludicrous reason, I'm sure.”

“Ex... ex...” the Dalek was still calling out, like a record with a scratch. She supposed he wasn't a real threat, not anymore, not after what the Master had done to him – And she really didn't want to know what that was, thank you very much.

She slipped out of the room again, after quickly checking if she was safe, and headed back to her little room as lightly as she could.

Okay, she wanted to know _a little_.  
  


It took several hours until she felt his TARDIS move through the vortex, the gentle vibration nothing against the usual, familiar shake that her own ship had produced whenever she'd started materialisation.

Or, errr, admittedly, maybe it was something _she_ had produced, but she liked it better than this quiet arrival nonetheless.

She listened for him to leave his ship and after a while she heard him rummaging around the console room and sneaked out yet again, hanging in the shadows and close to the walls. It wasn't Earth, she could see that from one look outside, even from this distance. Looked like a fire planet, this one. Whatever he was doing here, it was probably nothing good.

She tried not to feel too thrilled, at the thought of finally getting to watch him on his process to develop one of his ridiculous plans. What would he do, she wondered, once he'd figure out that she was nowhere to be found outside in the universe, because she was... well, trapped in here for the time being, hitch-hiking his TARDIS until she made it back to Earth, as the closest home she still had left?

She watched the Master from her hiding spot as he grabbed his coat, checked his pockets for his TCE, grabbed his TARDIS keys and opened the door outside. Before he stepped out, however, he stopped for a single second. standing in the frame with his back to her.

“I left you some pancakes in the kitchen, maybe use an actual plate this time.”

The door fell shut firmly behind him and the Doctor stood in the corridor, stunned, feeling something hot and cold pass over her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this doesn't fix the chapter amount issue, I will cry a little.

When the Master returned, she was sitting on his sofa, feet on the console and a huge pot of ice cream stolen from his freezer on her lap, spooning with abandon.

“Where've you been?” she asked, mouth full with delicious chocolate-caramel goodness as he walked in, shutting the door behind him with his eyes fixed on her in disbelief.

“Sorry honey,” he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Am I late for dinner?”

“As a matter of fact, I was getting hungry,” she replied. “You've been gone for hours. Is your coat scorched?”

She set the ice cream aside and got up, leaning forward with her face scrunched up. “Look at that. It's all black at the seams. Did you get into trouble?”

The Master rolled his eyes, laid a finger underneath her chin to raise her head to his and regarded her with a sweet smile.

“Not as much trouble as you're about to be in.”

He leaned forwards to rescue his ice cream, raised the almost empty box with a raise of his eyebrows, watched the melted chocolate sauce melt from the sides onto his fingers and shirt and dropped it again with a sigh.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath. “You offer a woman pancakes and she robs your entire kitchen.”

She watched him with a little knot in her stomach. He was in a bad mood. He was always so much harder to negotiate with in those kinda moods.

“So you knew I was there?” she finally asked. “The entire time?”

“Of course I knew you were there,” the Master replied with a roll of his eyes, letting himself fall down onto the exact spot the Doctor had just sat on. “Please, Doctor, your personality is so bright and loud, I don't think anyone in the area of fifty light years could miss you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” she asked, voice slightly heightened. “What's wrong with my personality? People never complain about that!”

“I wasn't...-” he shook his head, giving a tired sigh. “What do you want?”

“What?”

He waved his arms around his TARDIS.

“You. In here. Why?”

“Oh,” she murmured. “Yeah. I... I kinda lost my TARDIS.”

“You lost your TARDIS?” he repeated dully.

“Lost my TARDIS,” she confirmed with a nod.

“Has that old piece of junk finally given out beneath you?”

“What?” she called out, enraged. “No! I got trapped in Judoon prison. You know, the annoying one that always changes location? Hopped to seven different planets until I finally broke out. But I couldn't make it back to the original one and, well, when I searched their records... it said... that they've... they've thrown my TARDIS into space, alright?”

“They threw away a TARDIS?” he replied, voice caught between a laugh and indignation. “Surely, they could use it for something better?”

“They... they had noted it down as... as...”

He raised an eyebrow in expectation and she rolled her eyes before continuing.

“Junk.”

Oh _that_ had cheered him up, alright. He was almost toppling out of his seat in laughter, every single, mocking snort hitting her harder than it usually would.

“So that signal I picked up on,” he finally brought out, wiping away tears of laughter in a rather theatrical manner. “That power source I just couldn't find...”

“Turns out they're remarkably easy to fake with a bit regeneration energy exploding in a time loop,” she shrugged, trying to sound casual but she knew she sounded bitter. She _felt_ bitter. “One has to get creative to get into one's TARDIS.”

“So what was the plan? Stealing it?”

“What? No,” she gave a cold laugh. “I'm not _you_. I just wanted to sneak a trip back to Earth. Hide in here until you land and run off, is all.”

“Of course you're not me.” The Master's grin had frozen on his face. “You're infinitely worse. You're the good guy. You're the moral instance of the universe. No, you stealing my TARDIS, that would be _fair_ , wouldn't it, would be _just_ , would be the punishment that I _deserved_. I suppose that's why it doesn't count, does it, the time you left me behind for over sixty years without mine, huh?”

The Doctor felt something inside of her freeze. For a moment, she was unable to answer, just stood there, staring at him, trying to find the words, trying to think.

Okay yes, yes she'd done that. He did deserve it though, right? A little? And it had ultimately saved her friends and the Earth and... and...

She let her shoulders hang.

The truth was, now that she was facing very much of the same future, she suddenly felt her throat constricting at the thought of what she had done to him. It was a miracle, she thought, that all these years stranded on Earth hadn't driven him insane, quite frankly. It certainly would drive _her_ insane.

Well.

Then again, how much madder could they become?

The Master was leaning back, hands folded in his lap, legs crossed, as he looked up to her in clear expectation.

“Okay,” she brought out. It was always difficult, apologising to him. It wasn't that she wasn't sorry, she very rarely wasn't. It's just that more often than not, it felt like not enough. They were just some words in face of monstrosities. She always figured they'd only make him even angrier. “I... I did do that.”

“Really?” the Master huffed, no humour in the cold depths of his voice. “I hadn't noticed.”

“I'm...”

His eyebrows, if possible, wandered even higher, making her lose track of what she was saying. It was really difficult, really, remembering the word “sorry”. What an evasive little word.

“... I'm not proud of it,” she finished lamely and he rolled his eyes.

For a moment, she just stood there, staring at him nervously while he looked back. Something in those dark eyes had warmed, or was she imagining it?  
  
“So, what's it gonna be?” she finally asked with a sigh. “Am I getting shrunk? Thrown out into space? Abandoned on Skaro? I'm sure you've got a hundred ideas already, huh? Living the dream?”

To her surprise, he laughed.

“All excellent ideas, love.”

“Well, you know me,” she replied with a thin voice. “Always top of the class.”

“Actually, you were leaning around average most of the time,” he sighed. “And you could only hold average, because you actually knew all the answers to the fun stuff, while doodling _and_ ignoring teachers.”

“Well...” The little grin on the Doctor's face had appeared there without any chance for her to stop it. “The boy sitting right in front of me was just too dreamy. Have you seen those green eyes?”

She saw his lips twitch in an attempt of a smile he was much better prepared to hold back than she was.

“You can stay,” he finally said. “But you stay the heck away from me. Don't mess with my plans. Don't talk to any people I might bring in. And you don't, under any circumstances, eat my ice cream again.”

“You?” the Doctor laughed, pretending not to have heard that last part, “bringing in people? Please.”

“People can be useful,” he gave back with a hiss. “If they're not being invited to a tea chit-chat by your best enemy, that is.”

“So you're inviting people to use them and I'm supposed to just say nothing and let them walk into your traps?”

He gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Precisely, love. That is, unless you want to start a new living on Skaro, after all.”

She crossed her arms before her chest. He wanted her to stay out of his plans, no matter how horrendous they were? No chance.

“Why don't you just drop me off on Earth and...”

“Absolutely not,” he replied, face contorted to a grimace. “I'm not planning on going to Earth for centuries, honestly. If you want to go to that crap-bucket of a planet, find another ship to hitch hike.”

“I might,” she replied, lips pressed together in a sulk. “I'm not planning on staying here for centuries and watching you commit horrible crimes.”

“Good!” he called out, jumping up.

“Good!” she shouted back, leaning in to his face so close, she could feel his agitated, hot breath on hers. “And just so you know... you've got an apple rotting underneath your bed. Might want to do something about it. Otherwise you'll be sleeping on vortex ants, soon.”

“What?” he asked, taking a step back when his anger faded for confusion. “What have you been doing under my bed?”

Oh.

Oh-oh.

“Oh, so you didn't know I was there _then_...”

“You were... wait, _when_?” His voice was a roar now and he stepped closer again, making her back away swiftly, towards the corridor to the bedrooms.

“You know what, this is an excellent moment to comply to your conditions! I'll get out of your hair! Since my personality isn't that loud and bright after all, I'll just... run real quick and hide, huh?”

On slippery feet, still only wearing her socks, the Doctor was running through the corridors back to her little bedroom, the Master behind her after a few moments of stunned stillness. She was already around some corners when she heard his steps behind her, though, so if she was lucky, really really lucky, he wouldn't find her before his anger had calmed a little.

She saw her door appear at the end of the corridor and quickly slipped in, leaning against the door with a pant.

“Please,” she muttered to his TARDIS. “You know how he gets when he feels vulnerable. Could you just... hide me for a while?”

She didn't get a reply, but she also didn't get the Master burst in with a TCE ready to fire, so she took it as a yes and let herself fall onto her crammed little bed.

“Thanks.”

A few very, very weird days were ahead of her. Or weeks. Or months. Or... No, she had to stay positive. It'd be alright. She'd just wait for him to land on a hospitable planet, as he would have to sooner or later, and find someone better to hitch hike with. It was an adventure, nothing else. She was great at adventures.

It'd be fine, the Doctor thought to herself while crying into her pillow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, did I need to write these idiots today. I actually feel tons better now.

Things were... tense in the Master's TARDIS.

The Doctor was mostly trying to follow his terms of complete avoidance – Not only because she really didn't want to risk him throw her out in a temper tantrum, but only because... well, she wasn't exactly fond of her, either.

It got boring though, sitting alone in her tiny room, consisting of nothing but a bed. His TARDIS had given her a few books, but she'd gotten through them far too soon.

Ironically, they had all been about stowaways, which she figured, was some sort of joke the ship was playing on her.

Good to know it had a similar sense of humour to its owner.

With a sigh, the Doctor did what she had done for the last few days – She roamed through the Master's TARDIS. He was being busy, mostly stopping and going to visit other planets. What for, she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to know, considering that the possible knowledge would lead her to having to possibly act, which would lead back to being possibly homeless.

So yes, here she was, roaming endless corridors far away from his console room, exploring the ship. She'd never had had time for this before and he'd deactivated the traps for her – At least she hoped he had.

It was still not entirely safe, from what she found. There were several rooms with Daleks, similar to the one she had found before. It was never more than one Dalek in a room and they were always chained up, weapons detached.

She figured that he might be torturing them, maybe doing tests on them, maybe using them for spare parts or weaponry or as a source of knowledge.

She never stayed long enough to inspect them, a bit uncomfortable at both, the thought of being surrounded by Daleks and the thought of them getting tortured under her nose.

The Doctor also found an archive of sorts, shelves stuffed with disused weapons, broken parts and files of plans long gone or still ahead of them.

There were old masks hanging around, a bunch of yellow daffodils carelessly dropped in a corner, a laser screwdriver rolling over the floor with every move of the ship and an umbrella stand with Missy's sonic umbrella safely stored.

With a little grin she couldn't quite suppress, the Doctor picked up one of the daffodils and fastened it to stick out of one of her suspenders.

“Been a while since I've seen that,” she muttered with more fondness in her voice than she had thought herself capable of.

They had been teenagers back then, flirting clumsily, before things had become too serious.

With a little sigh, the Doctor turned around. No point in sabotaging these weapons – He'd just repair them and honestly, from the state of the room, she didn't think he actually came here other than to drop old props. She figured he might actually lock the rooms to her that were actually relevant for his evil plans.

Smart of him.

She wandered aimlessly through the corridors, opening random doors and peeking inside. Another laboratory, a (far too luxurious) swimming pool, a fifth library, a second kitchen – He had a lot of rooms for a lot of stuff he didn't really need. She figured that's what a TARDIS looked like that wasn't haunted by ghosts of friends long gone. All her TARDIS had offered were untouched, empty rooms of companions that had left her or worse.

She wasn't sure which ship left her more hollow. The one of someone who had never loved or the one of someone who had loved too much.

Quickly shaking her head, the Doctor wandered further into the heart of the TARDIS. There was a door at the end of the corridor she was aiming for now, pulling it open with a sigh of boredom and found...

 _Whoops_.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The Master didn't bother covering himself, just stood in front of her, half-dressed in what she could only deduce was his wardrobe, his black trousers still open and his chest bare.

He looked... Ah well, no point beating around the bush, he looked fantastic. His hair was still damp from what she assumed was a shower, water dropping down his bare chest, a very beautiful, muscular chest and she could see the seams of his boxer shorts, eyes drawn to them against her will.

That's when he stepped closer to her, eyes narrowed in anger and his voice low and threatening.

“Didn't I tell you to keep away from me?”

“I didn't know you'd be in here,” she spluttered, finally looking into his face.

“Well, then maybe don't wander around my ship, how about that?”

“And what do you expect me to do? Just sit around all day, doing nothing? I'm bored.”

“I don't think that's my problem,” he said, regrettably slipping a white shirt over his shoulders and buttoning it up. “I'm already letting you stay here, which is more than accommodating of me and...-”

“I didn't say it was,” she interrupted him quickly. “But that doesn't change that I am bored. Normally, I'm never home that much. I travel. I see things. Have adventures. Now I'm stuck here while you do your stupid plans with nothing to explore but your TARDIS – which, by the way, is built like a house of horrors.”

He snorted, a note of amusement sneaking into his voice as he regarded her with a smirk.

“A house of horrors?”

“There's dissected Daleks and I think I saw the remains of a Slitheen splashed all over a wall on the third floor.”

The Master's lips twitched.

“Sontaran.”  
“Well, whatever it was, you could've bothered cleaning up.”

“What for,” he shrugged. “I've got three more explosion rooms left, before I need to clean.”

“Explosion rooms?”

“Yeah,” the Master explained, putting on a suit jacket. “The rooms where I explode things.”

“Things?” the Doctor asked, face frozen. “You mean people. They might be another species, but still people.”

“Yes, yes, whatever,” he shrugged, fixing his tie.

“What for?”

“What?” He looked up from his tie.

“What are you exploding them for?”

He looked at her with a look of pure confusion for a moment, then frowned ever so slightly.

“Fun.”

“Fun,” she repeated dully.

“Fun,” he confirmed, finishing with his tie.

He opened the door of his wardrobe, standing to the side with an expectant look on his face, eyebrows raised towards her.

“You want me to leave,” she concluded and an annoyed smile appeared on his face.

“How sharp-minded of you.”

“Where are you going?” the Doctor asked, seemingly casual and the Master gave her a dry chuckle.

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

“At least tell me how long you're going to be gone? So I can have a look outside without you leaving without me?”

“So you can meddle in my affairs? No way. You stay nicely tucked in on board.”

“But I'm bored!” she whined again, grabbing him by the lapels with a huge sulk and the Master glared at her, taking a step back to free himself from her grip and quickly smoothing the fabrics of his jacket.

“Stop that,” he hissed. “That's my best one.”

“You look like you're going to a party,” she replied, ignoring his concerns. “And parties are _fun_!”

“What are you, seven?”

“Just take me.” Innocently, she straightened before him, hands behind her back and a wide smile on her face.

“Absolutely not,” the Master replied immediately, pushing her to the side to walk down the corridor.

“Come on!” she called, running after him hastily to block his way yet again. “You know you want to! It's gonna be a bore without me. You hate other people's parties, people always attempt to talk to you when you're on them!”  
  
“Leave me alone. Read a book or something.”

He tried to push her aside again, but she quickly clung to his arm, pulling it to her chest to pull herself up on it slightly, standing on the tip of her toes, face leaning in to him and that same wide grin still on her face.

“Just a little bit? So I can get under people and dance a little and hear some music, breathe some fresh planetary air?”

He sighed but she could see from the look on his face that she'd won.

“If you spoil any part of my plans - _any,_ Doctor _-_ I'm never letting you out with me again, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” she grinned. “And hey, who knows, maybe I find another person to hitch-hike, huh? Depending on the sort of party.”

“It's an interplanetary congress for influential politicians,” he murmured, looking like he already regretted his decision. “Held on Galaria.”

“Sounds like they'd have ships,” she grinned.  
  
“Sounds like you need a change of clothes,” he quipped back, looking her up and down with dismay.

Immediately, the Doctor's smile was wiped off her face.

“What's wrong with my clothes?”

“Everything,” was the short answer and he pointed back towards his wardrobe without looking at it, an expression of resignation on his face. “Go ahead, pick out a suit. I've got more than enough. I'll wait in the console room.”

She returned a bit later to him with his old Harold Saxon suit and a wide grin on.

“Do love a good suit, me.”

“You find them uncomfortable and annoying.”

“I do, but they're still better than dresses. Shall we?”

Without thinking, she held out his arm to him and with a sigh, he linked his with hers.

“I swear, if you embarrass me, I'll lock you into your room for a week – Wherever it is.”

She gave him a cheeky little grin.

“What am I? Seven?”

  
And they stepped out onto the ground of Galaria, a beautiful world, known for its growth of exotic flowers and plants of all kinds, but especially roses. She'd never been here and so the Doctor caught herself watching in awe, as with every blow of the wind, pastel-coloured rose petals were flying into her face, got caught up in her blond hair.

The first few, the Master had tried to pick out, but after a while, his own hair was covered in them and they were lying on the shoulders of his suit, got caught in his tie and he was focusing on freeing himself from them.

Giggling, the Doctor jumped from petal to petal, trying to catch them, rested them on her hands to inspect them.

“They're so much healthier than Earth roses,” she remarked, eyes wide. “And multi-coloured.”

The Master huffed.

“Air's better here. People actually care about this world rather than exploiting it for their own gains.”

“You're one to talk,” her face darkened. “Are you here to change that?”

The Master sighed.

“I'm here to attend a party.”

“What for?” she asked, voice sharp. “What could you possibly need from a botanic planet?”

He raised his eyebrows with a cruel smirk on his face.

“You don't genuinely think I'll tell you that, do you?”

They reached a tall building in the middle of the rose garden. The Master didn't hesitate long when they reached the blue-skinned butler, asking to see their invitations.

“I'm the Master,” he explained, smiling, his eyes never wavering from the butler's and his voice intense. “You'll find I am on the guest list.”

The Doctor snorted.

“Resorting to hypnotism and we're not even in.”

“Like your psychic paper is any different,” he replied without taking his eyes off the man.

“The Master... yes....” he mumbled. “Yes, of course... you're on the guest list... Please, do come in.”

The hall was filled with chattering people of all species and colours, music like the Doctor had never seen it before and decorations of roses at every wall. It was so very much not the Master's scene that his intentions should really worry her.

But right now, the Doctor couldn't break herself to care, instead she soaked it all up with eager looks, simply happy to be on an alien world again, happy to be surrounded by bustling crowds and people and smiled.

“Brilliant.”

When she turned her head towards the Master, she found him looking at her with an oddly warm gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face.

“Ready?” he asked, offering her his arm again and with a surge of excitement, the Doctor took it, linked it with her own and squeezed.

“Ready if you are.”


	4. Chapter 4

He was leading her towards the bar, ordering drinks for both of them, while the Doctor was still looking around, beaming.

For a moment, she could almost pretend to be living in old times. To have just stepped out of her ship for a new adventure with her companion who was... suspiciously letting his gaze wander over the crowds, clearly looking for someone or something.

The light feeling was immediately gone – She couldn't forget that he was dangerous. No matter how many threats he'd given her to stop her from stopping him, she was the Doctor. And that meant she was going to keep an eye on him and step in if she had to.

“So, what exactly are you looking for,” she asked again, taking a sip from her champagne.

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Stop it already. I'm not telling you.”

“I could help you.”

The Master snorted. “Please. Don't be ridiculous.”

He rested two hands on her shoulder, looking into her eyes with seriousness.

“Just enjoy the party, leave me alone and don't make me regret that I took you.”

She looked after him as he quickly, rushed even, worked his way through the crowds with determined steps. With narrowed eyes, the Doctor took another sip, gave him a little head start, then cautiously followed, smiling at everyone she passed, hiding behind them whenever she feared he might turn around.

“My lady,” she heard a voice beside her and before she could take another step, a hand had gently grabbed her shoulder. “My lady, may I say, you're very beautiful, maybe you'd like a dance?”

The second it took the Doctor to look at the humanoid man in front of her and back to the spot the Master had been on last was enough for him to disappear. With an annoyed huff, she pulled herself free from the man and ran towards his general direction but there was no sign of him left.

“Damn him,” she muttered.

“Please,” the man was still behind her, looking confused, but his wide, silver eyes were still pinned at her face and he smiled at her charmingly. “I'll have to take my shuttle in a few minutes, just one dance to spare?”

The Doctor sighed.

He seemed nice enough and sure, she wanted to have some fun, but on the other hand, she didn't really have time for this. Then a thought crashed through her and she put on her most winning smile, taking his hand and let him gently lead her to the dance floor.

“A shuttle, you said? A ship?”

“Indeed, my Lady,” the man smiled. “There are ships coming from all kinds of planets today, taking the congress back home. I'm assuming you're someone's wife?”

The Doctor frowned at him for a moment. Was that what she looked like? Like some politician's trophy wife?

“You'd think I'd dance with a handsome stranger if I was?” she smiled and the man's face lightened up.

“It's just... surprising to me, a woman like you... unmarried. Are you part of the peace congress?”

A peace congress, she thought. He loved messing those up.

“Sure. Love peace, me. Been fighting for it all my life. Might as well be part of it.”

“What's your name, my Lady?”

“Oh, I'm... uhm.”

She looked around. There were all kinds of species here, species she recognised from all over space. Best not to give herself away. Right?

“John Smith.”  
A confused glance met hers.

“Joanne. I realise it sounds like John sometimes, the way it's pronounced,” she laughed, nervously. “I get that _a lot_.”

“Joanne,” the man repeated, a dazed look on his face, blue eyes gleaming as he looked down at her - had he changed his eye-colour? Huh. Interesting - He seemed so wide-eyed and innocent to the Doctor, she couldn't help but like him. She smiled a little, enjoying the way he pulled her closer, swayed with her over the dance floor in calm and comfortable steps.

“My name is Jern-hoy,” he smiled. “I'm from the planet Hatoria. Have you heard of it?”

“I have not,” the Doctor admitted with a smile. “What's it like?”

Something gleamed up in his eyes, but she couldn't read it.

“Luxurious. Beautiful. A rising star, if you will, in the contracts that were determined here today.”

The Doctor couldn't quite bring herself to tell him that she seriously doubted that, that she'd have heard of his planet if it really had any bigger role in the universe to play.

Instead, she gave him another winning smile.

“That sounds wonderful.”

“I'd be happy to take you,” Jern-hoy said and his eyes were filled with something hungry now. “I could show you around.”

The Doctor was too caught up to notice anything out of the ordinary, her brain already running through several possibilities. A shuttle ship. She might be able to get to Earth with that, might be able to...

“What the hell are you doing?”

The Master's voice was cold, cruel and sharp behind her and she flinched, even though she hadn't done anything wrong, quickly stepping out of Jern-hoy's arms.

“We were just dancing,” the Doctor brought out quickly, chin raised spitefully at the rage she could read on the Master's face.

“Dancing?” he asked, through gritted teeth. “Have you lost your mind?”

“I'd recommend you to take a step back.” Jern-hoy's voice had suddenly lost all childlike wonder, had turned just as cold and snide as the Master's. An aura of power and evil was radiating from him she hadn't noticed before.  
  
“This is my lady now.”

“Okay, okay, wait wait wait, I have not agreed to...” The Doctor said, but the Master had already shoved her aside, chest out threateningly, as he walked up to Jern-hoy.

“Are you challenging me, Hatorian? Me, a Time Lord? The Time Lord who's burned Gallifrey to the grounds?”

Jern-hoy's eyes sparkled dangerously.

“So what if I am? She's mine and if that means I'll have to lay you to rest with the rest of your pitiful race, I will.”

“Okay, stop,” the Doctor blurted out. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with bo...-”

“I'd like to see you try, little Hatorian. Just in office and already drunk on power, are we?”

“If you wished to keep her, maybe you shouldn't have left her to jump into the arms of the first man who notices her.” Jern-hoy's grin had turned vicious and dirty now and the Doctor shivered.

But before she could say another word, the Master had punched him in the face and pulled out his TCE. His hand was trembling as he aimed at Jern-hoy, who was standing there, clutching his nose with a wild growl.

“The only reason I'm not shrinking you here and now is your part in history,” the Master brought out through gritted teeth. “But I've been known to erase fixed points that were far, far more important than your ridiculous little reign of terror. So you just be careful.”

There was madness gleaming in his eyes and before he could actually erase a fix point – why didn't she know of this man? - the Doctor quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him away. People were staring at them and they quickly wandered through the gaps, all eyes following them, before they had fought their way outside.

The Master wouldn't let her stop – He had his hand wrapped around her wrist now, clawing at her with painful force and pulled he with her. His whole body was tense, trembling with suppressed rage as he pulled her to his TARDIS roughly, shoving her in.

He stopped only when they were inside with the door closed behind him, shoving her back a second time, eyes alight with rage as he stepped into her personal space.

“What the hell were you doing, dancing with that man?”

“Why shouldn't I? It's a party and he asked me to dance,” she said, forcing herself to remain calm and stand her ground, not taking a single step back.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” He was spitting the words at her, looking completely crazed now.

“Will you calm down!” she called out, getting angry herself now. “I didn't know who he is! I still don't!”

The Master turned around with a groan, a hand on his face as he tried to ease the trembling in his limbs.

“Hatoria?” he brought out, trying to sound calmer. “We've talked about it in the Academy.”

“Please, like I remember every single thing Borusa told us back then.”

“Like you ever listened,” he spit, whirling around again. “Hatorians can connect their souls. They recognise and find each other, always, through their links, they can pull from the other's energy, they...”

“The soulmate planet,” the Doctor interrupted, suddenly remembering. “Right. They said to stay away from it, because... because...”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to remember. He might have had a tiny little point, there. She'd barely ever listened in class.

“Because they can connect with you against your will and drain you of all energy,” the Master concluded, his voice still full of suppressed anger. “Mark you as their own and find you all across the universe. Jern-hoy in particular is going to be quite famous for doing that. Makes himself an army of slaves, promises them their freedom from him if they fight his battle and takes over his planet. Usually, Hatorians are a peaceful species, only using their bonds to form meaningful relationships with each other. But he's going to take it to a whole new level. And almost he'd have caught himself his biggest weapon.”

“Me,” he muttered, cold, late fear running through her in waves and the Doctor felt herself shiver.

“They can't use their powers outside of the planet,” the Master growled. “Be glad for that.”

“He talked about a shuttle,” the Doctor sighed. “I just tried to get into his shuttle.”

The Master laughed bitterly. “Oh, I bet he would've loved to sit you down in his shuttle, straight to Hatoria. You bloody idiot!”

“I didn't know, alright! I don't know that man!”

“Then what are you doing, dancing with him? One thing, I asked you to do one thing! Not interfere with my plans.”

“Your plans?” she asked, disgust rolling over her in waves. “You wanted to use his power.”

“I wanted to negotiate with him to get a part of Hatoria's power source,” he explained with trembling voice. “And you've ruined it. Because of course you did.”

Angrily, he turned around to kick against the wall of his TARDIS, panting.

“I didn't-”

“Just get out of my face,” he shouted over his shoulder, his back turned to her. “Go to your room.”

The Doctor laughed coldly.

“You're not my father, you can't just tell me to go to my room.”

“Then why did I have to pull you away from some horny dude at a party like a sixteen year old, huh?” He turned back around to her, face contorted to a grimace of rage.

“You didn't,” she replied calmly. “That was _your_ choice.”

For a second, they stood there, quietly staring at each other.

“Thank you, by the way,” she added, speaking into the silence and he looked at her like he wasn't sure how to murder her first.

“He's a slimy git,” he finally sneered. “I don't know why you would want to dance with him in the first place.”

It occurred to her only then, as she watched his eyes flit down to the ground for one second, avoiding her gaze, that all his anger, all the shaking had been about something more than merely his ruined plans. She felt a wave of surprise paired with warmth, soothing, comforting warmth, settle between her hearts, washing away the anger.

“Like I said...” She gave him a friendly, tentative smile. “I only wanted to use his shuttle. I like my soul very much independent, thank you very much.”

“Well... good.” He finally seemed to calm down a little, his breathing was slowing, getting deeper.

“That was a great punch, though,” she added with a grin growing. “Glad I got to see that. He sure deserved it.”

The Master stared at her for a second, then smirked crookedly.

“You're doing that thing where you compliment me so I get less angry.”

“A little,” the Doctor admitted. “Is it working?”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“A little.”

The Doctor's grin grew steadily.

“You're not throwing me out, then?”

“No,” he brought out. “But I'm also not sure I'll ever let you out again after this stunt.”

She shrugged.

“You'll get terribly bored without me. Plus, I'll just sneak out and cause even more trouble that way. You know that.”

“Doctor...,” he said, then stopped himself, biting his tongue before averting his gaze.

“What?” she asked, standing still, waiting for him to say anything.

Finally, the Master sighed, his shoulders sinking as his held breath escaped.

“Don't do that again.”

“That I can do,” she replied cheerfully, then frowned. “I think. It's not like I wanted this to happen."  
  
He sighed again, turning around. His hand was still shaking slightly as he wiped a few dark strands of hair out of face, but he seemed to slowly regain his composure.

Which meant she could dare one little jab, she was sure.

“So, you'll have to find a new power source to exploit now, huh?” she asked, walking around him to face him again and he _growled_ at her words.

“Yes.”

The Doctor badly suppressed a grin, before walking off into the corridor that led to her conveniently covered room.

“That's too bad.”


	5. Chapter 5

He was a brooding, grumpy mess ever since the incident on the party.

Locking himself into his laboratory – the one his TARDIS simply wouldn't let her enter – he barely showed his face to her anymore. The Doctor, much like a rebelling child that needed attention and affection, had taken to cross lines more and more, one toe at a time, to the point where she'd eaten all his ice cream and left the empty boxes in the freezer for him to find.

If he had actually found them, he was ignoring her.

And so she started acting out a little harder. She played around with trying to break the deadlock he had on his TARDIS controls, she'd messed up his perfect, neat system in the library by arbitrary pulling out books and sorting them back into the wrong shelves. She'd even tried to talk his TARDIS into switching up the doors so he didn't find the way in the bathroom anymore – Instead, some of the books in her room had disappeared and she couldn't find any library anymore.

That's when the Doctor gave up. Best not to antagonise his TARDIS, as the ship didn't seem to be above pettiness.

That's when things got even more boring, of course.

Now she was sitting in his console room, wondering when he'd stop brooding over whatever plan he was currently thinking out and start having adventures again. A foot was resting on his console carelessly – it wasn't like she could activate anything anyway – her back leaning heavily on the chair she was on, letting it rocking back and forth, the front legs constantly up in the air.

"Boooooring,” she said, to absolutely no one, hoping she'd be heard by absolutely anyone. “Here I am, in the TARDIS of the absolute most evil and devious and cunning super genius of the universe, in the lion's den, if you will and.... I'm bored.”

She tried to balance the only book on her head that the ship had left her – a heavy advisor on the merits of modesty and how to achieve it – while bobbing back and forth on her chair.

She only lost balance when the weight on her head lifted and the Master's face was hanging over her, exasperated and pale, catching the chair as it threatened to fall backwards with the hand that wasn't holding the book.

“What did you think it was going to be?” he asked, a barely visible smirk tugging at his lips. “Fireworks and murder attempts every day?”

He let go of her chair suddenly, making her fall back forwards with a jolt. The Doctor had to quickly catch herself with her hands steadied on his console.

“A little,” she admitted when she looked up again, just in time to watch him regard the title of the book with a little chuckle. “At least I thought it was a bit more exciting than you locking yourself into a room for weeks.”

“One has to plan carefully, especially with their arch enemy in the house.” He gave her a grin that could've passed as cocky, if it wasn't for the tired look in his eyes, the bags under his eyes and the quick crumble of it.

“You look tired,” she noted.

He shrugged.

“Planning always gets me a bit ... passionate. Didn't sleep much.”

He dropped the book on the console and typed in coordinates, fingers flying quickly over buttons and levers to keep her from seeing.

“You're not leaving like this, right?” the Doctor asked, too stunned to even attempt to watch where they were going. “You need some sleep.”

“I can sleep when I'm dead,” he replied absent-mindedly, eyes pinned on a monitor.

“So never?”

“Yeah sure, why not.” He wasn't really listening to her. With a jump, he slipped into his coat and rushed towards the exit doors.

“Hey, wait,” the Doctor called, jumping off her seat now. “I'm coming with you, I'll-”

“Oh no!” He whirled around, his attention suddenly on her after all, his voice changing from a tired mutter to a thunderous roar. “You'll be staying right here. You already ruined my last plan, you're not taking this one down, too. I'll lock the door behind me.”

“I'll just break it open,” the Doctor called back spitefully, stumbling closer towards him but he gave her a dark glare, making her stop immediately.

“Do that and you're out, for good.”

With another swirl of his coat, he'd left, letting the door slam shut behind him.

“Stubborn old idiot!” she called out in annoyance. With a huff, the Doctor sat back down, feet on the console and opened the book she'd so far refused to read.

With a crooked grin she noticed that the chapter, “Realise that your arrogance is a but a mask you put on to not reveal your deeply-rooted insecurities” had been torn out, leaving behind nothing but angry, sharp edges standing out of the book.

  
When the Master finally returned, dawn had already settled over the desolate alien world she'd fail to identify. The monitors were still telling her nothing, but she'd broken open the door – if for no other reason than pure boredom – and had gotten increasingly fed up of waiting here for him to return like a obedient little housewife.

She'd just been busy pacing up and down in front of the exit, contemplating how risky leaving would be now, when it got pushed open with an agonised growl and the Master stumbled inside with his shoulder first, clutching his side.

His coat was falling back and she saw the dark stains of blood sicker through the blue shirt that was sticking to his body now. She rushed forwards, helping him in without a word or a single second of hesitation, throwing one sharp look outside before closing the door behind them.

There was nothing to see - Whatever had attacked him hadn't done so nearby.

She helped the Master sit down on the chair she had sat on earlier, watched him contort his face to a pain-struck grimace, but no sound left his pinched-together lips but a little hiss.

The Doctor knelt down before him, tearing open his shirt to regard the wound. The silky fabric was glued to his hip by dried blood and she frowned deeply as she peeled it off carefully.

“That'll need stitches,” she muttered. “But it's not too bad. Definitely not life-threatening.”

She hadn't really spoken to him, more to herself, feeling the relief flood her only now she'd heard the words out loud from her own voice. “You're gonna be fine.”

“'Cause I am,” he replied, trying to sound harsh, but he just sounded exhausted and his voice was barely more than a murmur. “Gone through much worse than that.”

“Sure you have,” the Doctor snorted, feeling her annoyance and frustration with him return now that shock had made space. “Doesn't mean you have to look for a way to die, y'know?”

Without paying his grumpy muttering much attention, she was swiftly running down the corridor to where she knew his sick bay was and grabbed a first aid kit.

The few second she'd been gone were enough for the Master to try and get up, clearly fighting for his balance just when the Doctor returned, arms swinging through the air helplessly as he threatened to fall back.

She grabbed his shoulders, held him steady and carefully helped him sink back onto the chair.

“What happened?” she asked, ignoring the dark glare he gave her. “Looks like a spear wound?”

“Why're you asking if you know the answer?” the Master grumbled, watching her with a little sulk as she cleaned and disinfected the wound.

“Could you at least give me a warning before you attack me with alcohol?” he asked and the Doctor raised her eyes just long enough to give him a cocky waggle of her eyebrows.

“I figured you've _gone through much worse than that._ ”

She gave his wound an extra long pat with the cotton, hearing his gasp giving her an odd sense of pleasure, before she grabbed herself a needle.

"This'll sting a little,” she grinned cheerfully. “In case you need a warning for that, too.”

“Just get on with it,” he muttered, but she could see his pale fingers clutching the sides of the chair.

Without thinking, the Doctor raised her free hand, fingers brushing over his upper thigh reassuringly once, then took care of stitching the wound.

“So which species did you piss off enough to spear you?” she asked conversationally, half out of curiosity and half to distract him from the pain.

“Glatants,” he brought out through gritted teeth. “Bloody love their spears, don't they?”

She froze for a second, hands hanging in the air, then shook her head to clear it and continued stitching him up.

“Dunno what you're doing challenging Glatants. They've nothing but violence on their minds.”

“They've had something buried in the snow,” the Master replied, a cold smirk on his lips now, even though they still looked pale and strained. “Deep beneath their endless layers of ice, untouched by civil society and almost forgotten. And now it's mine.”

She noticed him patting the inside of his coat with a lightly trembling hand.

“A power source able to power all the weapons in the world, weapons they could only dream of.”

“Happy now, are you?” The Doctor felt her mood sink again, the cocktail of anger and fear for him, of frustration, boredom and desperation finally threatening to boil over. “You've finally got your stupid part for your stupid plan together, yeah? Was it worth it? Almost dying for the madness, almost dying for the suffering you're going to inflict on others yet again?”

“Didn't die, did I?” he spat back and that smirk still on his lips was what made the Doctor snap.

She clapped his half-finished wound hard and got up, enjoying the smirk being wiped away by a grimace of pain.

“Well, know what, patch yourself up, then. I'm sure it'll be just fine, you've done it alone a million times after all, right? Because that's all you'll ever be. Alone with yourself and your atrocities.”

She dropped the needle, let it dangle from the thread still inside of him and left.

  
The corridor seemed endless today. Whenever she thought she'd reach the door to her own little hiding hole, her little peaceful territory in this vast danger zone, it seemed to jump back further.

With a growl, she raised her head, addressing the ceiling.

“I'm not in the mood for your petty games, you hear me! Stop it!”

But no matter how far she stepped, the Master's TARDIS wouldn't let her reach her room. Finally, with a low growl, the Doctor gave up, pulled open a random door and found herself inside the Master's wardrobe again. With a cold shrug, the Doctor curled herself up in a pile of laundry that, to her endless annoyance, still smelled of him and willed herself to just sleep.

There were tears stinging in her eyes, however and rage gnawing at her hearts and it was only hours later, when she heard him move about in the distance, heard the sink in the kitchen, heard the clatter of glass, heard the unmistakable signs of someone else being _alive_ in the ship, that she finally found the calm to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will these old fools realise they keep on getting angry at the other for almost killing themselves for their own gains and break this vicious cycle? WHO KNOWS.  
> Ah right, I do.


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor woke up, cold and with an aching back, to the smell of freshly baked pancakes.

“Huh?” Eyelids fluttered, and her hands trembled slightly as she tried to pull herself up and sit on her mattress, only to realise she wasn't on a mattress.

Only when she looked into dark eyes looking down at her, yesterday's events came back to her. The blood, the wound, the stupid, arrogant smirk of the man who'd almost died on his quest for power yet again, the search for her room and falling asleep on...

Oh, damn.

“I see you've made yourself a lovely nest,” the Master smirked. “Comfy?”

She quickly rolled off the pile of clothes she had curled up in, one of his socks sticking to her shoulder and she brushed it away with a blush building.

“Not really.” She'd tried to growl but her voice was still weakened from sleepiness. “Your bloody TARDIS just wouldn't let me get back into my room.”

The Master badly held back a snort.

“Here.” He pressed a plate plastered with pancakes into her hands. “Made you breakfast. Whenever you're finished cuddling my clothes, you can have syrup. Not giving you any around my wardrobe though.” He threateningly held the fork out to her face, before walking off.

A bit lost, the Doctor stood in the middle of the wardrobe with a plate full of pancakes, looking after him.

What was this? Some sort of peace offering?

Huh.

She took a moment to smooth out her clothes, took a deep breath, then followed him out into the kitchen.

He was sitting at his table, chewing on eggs while reading. When she entered, he looked up from his book for only a moment, pushed a bottle of syrup over the table towards her and continued his reading.

“How're you?” she mumbled as she sat down opposite him, starting to pour adequate amounts of syrup over her pancakes.

Sharp eyes met hers.

“Better. Fixed myself up.”

“Right...” She was unsure what to do – Should she apologise? She did feel guilty – Well, a _little_ , maybe. But he had deserved it. Plus, he definitely did know how to fix himself up, so no harm done. Right?

“Don't bother,” he sighed, turning his gaze back to his book, as if he knew what she was thinking. He probably did, to be honest.

The Doctor sighed in return, chewing on her pancakes to gain some time.

“Think you could tell your ship to let me back into my room again? Being a bit petty, that one.”

“So it is,” the Master replied, lips twitching in a smirk even though he wasn't looking at her. “And no, I can't.”

“Really? You can hardly want me to sleep on your clothes every night!” the Doctor called out indignantly and he snickered.

“Not particularly,” he confirmed. “But I genuinely can't. That ship's barely listening to me. Once locked me into my swimming pool for a week when I just thought about stealing myself a better model.”

“For good reason,” the Doctor called out, patting the table reassuringly. “You just don't do that to your loyal, loving...-”

“Brown-nosing's not gonna do it,” the Master interrupted her with a grin. “Believe me – I've tried.”

“Then what is?” she grumbled.

“Penance,” he shrugged. “I'm afraid you'll have to sit it out. Half the time I don't even know what it gets angry about.”

The Doctor frowned.

“I think you underestimate the affection your TARDIS feels for you. She starts getting petty with me whenever I get petty with you. Wouldn't know how she stands you, but... well. Apparently she does.”

The Master didn't show any sign of having even heard her, of caring, except for his chewing slowing down for a moment, almost freezing, coming to a stumbling halt before he continued it as if nothing happened.

Still the same idiot, she realised. Still unable to process loyalty and love, so unused to it, he couldn't even accept it from the ship he had a telepathic connection with, from his home and constant companion.

He must've felt her eyes on him because after a moment of silent eating, he lifted his own gaze from the book again, looking at her with a cold gleam in his eyes.

“Well, in that case, maybe it just hates you because you _stole_ it from me, ever considered that?”

She lost her appetite there and then, shoving the remaining pancakes away with a heavy weight settling in her stomach.

She'd known, of course, that he was about to lash out with something mean. That's the way it always was – She said something to try and touch the softer, more vulnerable parts of him and he couldn't stand that she did and retaliated with something ranging from rude to unforgivable.

Apparently they couldn't even break the pattern over breakfast.

But the worst was, the Doctor thought with a pang of guilt, that he was _right_.

The Master looked up with a gentle roll of his eyes.

“Relax. Tell you what. I gotta work on my TARDIS today, anyway. You can help make it nice and clean and fix up its loose parts and in return, maybe it'll feel nice enough to let you back into your own bed.”

The Doctor tore out of her brooding immediately, a smile building.

“I can help, really? I've been bored out of my mind, I think I could really use something to do.”

“You can,” he replied, getting up to wash his plate. “But there's certain rules.”

“What are they then?” she sighed, resigning to her fate.

“No chewing gum, for starters. You're not fixing anything with chewing gum or strings. There's parts for everything. My engine stays clean, you hear me?”

She grinned, following him around and handing him her sticky plate without bothering about cleaning it herself.

“Sure, sure, I can do that. I'm a brilliant mechanic this time around!”

“Fine,” he sighed. “I'll look over your shoulder once in a while, though. Just to be _sure_.”

She was fine with that, actually. He had always been a perfectionist – And a little bit better than she was in mechanics, too. And despite their long-time rivalry... She had always enjoyed working together with him on projects. Harmless projects, that was.

“Done!” she called out, beaming and for a second, he didn't seem to be able the small smile he regarded her with.

Then he turned around to open his freezer, got out one of his empty ice cream boxes and frowned as he shook it.

“Doctor...”

“So. Work to do. Best change. I'll need goggles. An apron... some... some meditation before we begin...”

She began to walk out of the room backwards, waving and smiling manically, while the Master took out a second, equally empty ice cream box.

“Yeah, you better run for your life,” he said as his hands closed around the third empty box, but in his eyes gleamed an amused sparkle.

  
He was caught up in something that definitely wasn't repairs. From the looks of it, from what she had gathered before he'd caught her gaze and shifted so that his shoulders were blocking her view, he was trying to take something from his TARDIS rather than fix it.

Still, she wasn't complaining – Whatever he was planning, he wasn't going to harm his TARDIS beyond repair, so she simply grabbed some tools and made her way further down the road to where he'd told her to tighten some circuits.

His TARDIS was in a much better state than she'd seen hers in... well, ever. He had to inspect it much more regularly than she did.

With her tongue tugged between her teeth, she started working on it, trying her hardest to be thorough and gentle. What she'd said was true – While regeneration didn't particularly give her new skill sets, it could certainly raise her motivation to use some of them and she'd gotten quite the hearts for mechanics in this particular incarnation.

She'd liked working on her own ship – It had made her feel close to her, had given her the feeling of taking care of her, of really taking control over something, really, truly being able to fix something.

Right now, she was distantly aware of the Master's TARDIS humming gratefully around her, but the deep sense of connection she had gotten so used to simply wasn't there. There were nothing but the hollow, repetitive movements of wrenching and enough of telepathic feedback to remind her of her own ship somewhere in the endless vastness of space, drifting and lost.

The Doctor hadn't realised that she was crying until the Master had walked up behind her, a hand on her shoulder.

“How are you doing?” His voice was soft, softer than she was used to, even as he pretended not to notice her tears.

Was that how pathetic she looked now, that even her worst enemy was taking _pity_ on her?

'S all good,” she muttered, angrily wiping away her tears with her arm. “Almost finished here.”

He squeezed her shoulder, just once and she tried not to find comfort in it, she really did, but somehow it was still there and it made everything worse. She shook violently as a little sob escaped her lips, making him freeze behind her.

“Doctor...”

“I'm fine,” she quickly called out, jumping up. “It's all fixed. It's all... I'll just...” She was just was? She couldn't go to her room because his TARDIS wouldn't let her. Couldn't sit down and read because there was only one book. Couldn't escape the loneliness, the disconnect from her ship creeping up on her, making her feel cold and lost and alone and and and...

The Master forced her to turn around to him with a little frown on his forehead, as he regarded her.

“I'm not your pets,” he reminded her. “Don't hit me with that rubbish. I know you're not fine.”

“Of course I'm not!” she called out, pushing him away. “How the hell could I be alright? I lost my home! My best and oldest friend! My... my...”

The look on his face shifted from shock to hurt and no, she couldn't do this right now, she just couldn't. Without another word, she turned around and rushed away. She didn't care she was going, as long as she could curl up in a corner and be alone.

To her surprise, when she tried to leave the room, the corridor had just disappeared, leaving her trapped until the Master was back behind her, grabbing her hand before she could start hammering against the wall.

“Hey...” The gentleness in his voice made her turn back around to him, his face blurry in the onslaught of tears as she looked at him. “Come on, I'll show you something.”

As soon as it was clear that she would follow him, hand still in his, soothing calm dripping through her, growing from where their fingers were intertwined up her arms and straight to her hearts, the corridors re-appeared, letting them leave the engine room.

She stumbled behind the Master, who was leading her with quick steps, before opening one of the doors she was sure hadn't been there before and holding it open for her.

With a stunned look, the Doctor walked in – or rather, out: He'd led her into a vast garden, more than a garden, it looked like a jungle she would be able to get lost in for hours. There were light, barely visible paths starting in between bushes, getting lost in grass growing high and fallen leaves covering the ground, there were birds crying she had never heard before and crickets chirping somewhere in the distance.

“We're still... I mean...”

She turned back around to the door and the Master gave her a little chuckle.

“Yeah, it's still my TARDIS. I started building and growing it ages ago, when you had me stuck on Earth with you during your exile.”

Right, she remembered that. She'd stolen his dematerialisation circuit, making sure the Master wasn't causing any trouble in space while she was stuck on Earth, unable to use her TARDIS. Of course, the truth was, back then he'd been the closest to home, to her old lifestyle she'd had and she'd _needed_ him to stay with her.

Not much different from now, she realised with a pang, almost physically twitching at the realisation, that, yes, his presence was more comforting than she'd even realised. All the bickering, the fighting, it had helped take her mind off the loss she still felt deeply in her hearts.

He'd helped.

“How'd you do it?” she asked, to distract from her reaction, watched confusion curl in his dark eyes, but he shrugged.

“Most of it with telepathic mind-scaping and a lot of research in my library to get some ideas.”

“It's... beautiful.”

“It's peaceful,” he sighed. “Well, if you don't go in too far. There's some human-eating flowers – When I read about them, I just had to add them. And I _think_ I accidentally released some tigers somewhere. And there are lianes able to choke you to death...”

“You have a very weird idea of peace,” the Doctor replied dryly, but she felt some of the despair lift off her hearts and make space for a surge of warmth instead.

“What I'm saying, it might help you in your.. uhm... boredom. You can walk around and explore - just try not to get killed.”

So that was his solution, then? Giving her her own zoo cage, rather than letting her go out into the universe with him?

She turned his head, opened her mouth, ready to give him a peace of her mind, but he shocked her into silence by raising a hand, gently wiping a tear off her cheek.

“I'll need to go to Earth tomorrow,” it stumbled out of his mouth and he looked as if he hadn't meant to say it, as if he immediately regretted it. “You can come, if you like, just... I... I just think you're hardly better off staying there, that's all.”

The Doctor let her mouth fall shut, looking at him with confusion for a moment and then a little, tentative smile appeared on her face, her tears drying up.  
  
“Is that your weird way of telling me you want me to stay?”

“I'm... offering,” he finally sighed. “I've been stuck on Earth for over sixty years without my TARDIS, if you remember. It might feel like a second home to you, but it's...” He shook his head and she thought he looked... troubled. “It's not exactly the kind of life you'll want to live. Here, at least you can keep on travelling, even if you drive me insane.”

He gave her a smirk. “And you'll have a proper challenge.”

“I'll stay then,” she replied quickly, not even having to think about it, not really. “But you better be prepared that I _will_ challenge you. Because now you officially broke your 'I'll throw you out on Skaro' leverage.”

The Master rolled his eyes at her cheeky grin.

“We'll see about that, love. I actually do need to give Skaro a visit eventually.”

“You're kidding, right?” she asked, the grin falling off her lips as she saw the dark expression on his face. “Oh Gods. You're not.”

“Not tomorrow, though. Apparently this idiot here needs a healthy dose of Earth air. Why _ever_ that would be.”

He laid an arm around her and gently led her into the garden towards a set of swings gently swinging in the wind.

“Skaro?” She was still asking when he sat her down on a swing and took the one right beside her. “What the hell are you planning that you need Dalek technology for?”

“Now love, you know I can't tell you that,” he laughed. “Wanna see who can loop on the swing first? If I make it, you have to play Davros-decoy.”

There was danger gleaming in his eyes as he grinned at her, adventure and something weirdly familiar that seemed to have never left him over the centuries, always reminded her of running through red grasses with him, trying to keep him from tackling her to the ground, before she eventually had let him win, rolled around on the ground with him, happily admitting defeat.

“You got it,” she grinned, happy excitement pooling in her stomach despite the danger she knew he'd lead her into. Or maybe just because of it.

And then she pushed her feet off the ground.


	7. Chapter 7

Earth.

The Doctor's soul was singing, dancing, an overwhelming sense of relief flooding her and leaving her smiling like an idiot in the middle of a London street, as she simply took deep breath after deep breath, sucking in the familiarity of the air and her surroundings.

It wasn't home, it wasn't her TARDIS but it was the closest she'd gotten to feeling alright ever since she'd lost her.

This was familiar ground, this was a place she knew like the back of her hand, there were no twisted surprises here (well, apart from a few invasions a week), no unspoken rules she had to learn about – No soul-sucking dance partners – At least not in the literal sense.

The Master had almost looked tormented when he had materialised here and dropped her off with a roll of his eyes, told her if she wasn't back at eight, he'd not spend another minute too long on this piece of rock she called planet and would be gone, with or without her, but the Doctor highly suspected those were just empty threats.

He had been, after all, the one to tell her to stay.

A weird, warm smile was plastered all over her face as she walked down the streets. She had no goal in mind, the Master had walked off to God knows-where, fulfilling his evil plans and she figured, if she'd just walk a little, she either stumbled directly into them or someone else's plans for a change.

Maybe she could do a little bit Earth-saving before going back in. Just like the old times. Yes. Earth-saving was just what she needed right now to feel a bit more grounded.

  
It shouldn't be that hard to find trouble in London – It really usually wasn't. It seemed to follow her around whenever she visited. Then again, she supposed she was used to her TARDIS bringing her right into the heart of it – the Master's, meanwhile, was the TARDIS that usually brought trouble along with it.

“Great,” she snorted. “All I wanted was a bit of normality.”

That's when she heard screams from inside the Tesco's she was currently standing in front of. Beaming, the Doctor hastened inside.

“Hello,” she called through the aisles, still not quite able to make the grin disappear that had built on her face. “No need to fear, I'm the Doctor and I'm here to...”

“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” the Master smirked, walking up to her with two filled shopping bags in his arms and completely stealing her thunder.

The Doctor's grin fell off her face.

“Are you responsible for this?”

By _this_ , she meant the people cowering behind shelves, hands on their heads, as they wept in despair, barely paying them any attention. Groceries were scattered all over the place, tins and tomatoes rolling over the floor.

The Master snorted.

“You think I'm robbing the local supermarket? That's not my standard, love. No, I think _they_ might have something to do with it.”

He pointed behind him with a lazy thumb over his shoulder just as she heard the painfully familiar shudder for breath that came along with...

“Ice Warriors!” she called out, then frowned. “At Tesco's.”

The Ice Warriors just stood there, staring at her and the Doctor stared back, stunned.

“They have been known to be more impressive,” the Master muttered in agreement. “I think they set up a sort of portal in the clerk's office. Anyway. Lunch?” And to the Doctor's complete bafflement, he walked towards the automatically opening doors.

“Hey, wait,” she called after him. “You can't just leave!”

He stopped to turn around to her with a raised eyebrow. “Why not? The door's working fine.”

“Because these people need help! We can't just leave them alone with Ice Warriors. Look at them, they're terrified!”

As if to empathise the Doctor's point, one of the kneeling women closest to her started nodding eagerly as the Master's gaze hit her.

He snorted.

“Well, you have fun then.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

The Doctor whipped out her new, makeshift sonic screwdriver and aimed it at the doors, locking them for the Master, who turned around with a dark glare on his face.

“You're aware you've just locked all of us into a room – A large room, mind you, but still a room – with a horde of Ice Warriors, are you?”

“We're an army, actually,” one of the Ice Warriors breathed. “Not a horde. An army.”

They both turned around to it, having completely forgotten all about them over their bickering.

They were at least twenty, eyes dully pinned on them, the breathing echoing from the walls of the store. The Doctor could hear some of the humans weep in fear.

She turned back to the Master, giving the Ice Warriors the cold shoulder for as long as they let her.

“Yes. And now you're gonna have to help or you'll be ending up like the rest of us. How's that?”

The Master stared at her, not moving for a moment, not even blinking, then he rolled his eyes.

“You want my help to get this sorted? Fine. But be prepared that I'm gonna be doing it my way.”

Before she could ask what his way exactly was, the Master had stepped up to the army of Ice Warriors, standing next to the Doctor with an arm propped to his hip and a wide, fake-friendly smile on his lips.

“Hello. I am the Master. This is the Doctor. You remember the Doctor, right?” he asked, tone biting. “She'll have stopped you half a dozen times, I bet. Probably more often. Threw wrenches into every single one of your conquers.”

“I don't think this is very productive,” the Doctor mumbled under her breath.

“Now, of course you could be all egomaniac villain and think ' _This time, this time we're gonna beat her!_ '” the Master continued, not paying her any attention. “You could take that risk. I do it all the time. Look where it brought me.”  
  
He held up both hands, still holding the shopping bags to show them.

“That's right. In a lousy store in London. I don't even like London. Or Earth for that matter. Why you'd try to take over Earth, I do not know.”

The Ice Warriors were staring back at him blankly.

“You try to all the time,” the Doctor muttered through her teeth and again, the Master ignored her.

“But I'm telling you a little secret,” he babbled on. They had now tilted their heads, listening with confused expressions. “You don't have to take that risk. Pick another planet. Any planet she's not over-dramatically fond of. And try invading that one instead.”

“Hey, wait, that's not what-”

“She doesn't have her TARDIS, you see? Can't fly in to save the day at all. So if you leave, let the last one switch off that portal of yours and you're all good. She can't stop you from down here.”

He gave them his most winning grin and the Doctor, for a second, was utterly speechless.

“That's your solution?” she finally screeched and to her shock, the Ice Warriors exchanged a few glances and started going back into the clerk room.

“Well, your reputation is good for _something_ ,” the Master beamed at her.

“You just sent them to invade some other, completely unprotected planet!”

“I know!” The Master was laughing now, the sound spilling from his lips manically. “And it worked, too!”

She gave him a last shake of her head, then ran after the Warriors – But the first few had already crossed the portal and the others didn't even pay her any attention anymore. She whipped out her sonic again, scanning the portal, only to have the Master step up behind her and taking it out of her hands.

“Is that what happened to my spoons?” he asked. “First you eat my ice cream, then you melt the spoons?”

“I had nothing to do,” she snapped, trying to grab her sonic back. The Master – unnecessary pettily – held it up in the air for her to try and grab. She jumped up his body, tried pulling down his arm, even sulked and whined and shouted at him, but he'd only let his arm sink when the portal was already turned off behind the last Ice Warrior, grinning at her with a mad twinkle in his eyes.

“Screw you,” she said, voice cold but the Master merely grinned.

“Oh, I get it. Because it's a _screw_ driver. Good one, Doctor.”

She ignored him, feeling fury rise inside of her and turned around to scan what was left of the portal. “Energy readings. Saving those for later. Might be able to trace it back with your TARDIS.”

“You are absolutely not,” he snorted but quickly fell silent when he saw the look on her face. Her hazel eyes were boring into him, as unresisting as steel.

“Yes,” she replied with deadly calm. “I will.”

It satisfied the Doctor's rising anger to no end when he simply remained quiet.  
  
She rushed through the store back to the exit and unlocked it, gently guiding all the people of the store outside.

“You're safe now, it's all good,” she muttered and watched the normality of a busy London street sucking them back into daily life. One by one, the people vanished into the crowd, leaving only the Master behind her, with his hands full of plastic bags.

“They're bad for the environment, you know that?”

“It's not like I'm gonna throw them out _here_ ,” he grumbled, then frowned. “Not that I care.”

“Well, let's go, we've got a planet to find and save.”

He was muttering something under his breath, definitely quieter than earlier, seemed almost resistant to face her wrath again, but she turned around with blazing eyes anyway, just when they had reached his TARDIS.

She blocked his way into the door, glaring at him.

“Now, you listen to me. I don't care about your rules, I don't care about you threatening to throw me out, I don't care about your TARDIS locking me into a cabinet in petty revenge. We're saving these people you've just subjected to an invasion. And your stupid plan, whatever it is? That's cancelled!”

With a swift move, she pulled the bags out of his hands.

“Hey!” the Master shouted indignantly. “Those are mine!”

“It ends here!” she replied harshly. “Whatever it is you're doing – If you're not going to tell me, I'll find out, here and now.”

She looked into the bags and felt herself freeze. For a few seconds, she just stood there, staring into his bags while the Master stood with his arms folded in front of his chest, sulking.

“That's.... just ice cream,” the Doctor muttered. “You bought three bags of ice cream.”

“Well, you ate all of mine!” the Master spit. “And I knew if I only got a few new boxes, you'd eat those, too.”

“You said you had something to do on here.”

“I did.”

“Buying ice cream,” she replied tonelessly.

“Correct.”  
  
“There's ice cream on 423 planets in this galaxy,” she gently pushed him, a smile tugging at her lips against her will. “And you go to the planet you like least?”

“They have the best kinds,” he replied, still sulking.

“They _so_ do not.” The Doctor was openly grinning now.

“They do. I love... common chocolate chips. Who the hell needs stardust and ember bombs when you have...” He peeked into one of the bags. “... Strawberry.”

“You didn't need to go to Earth at all, did you?”

Her grin was threatening to split her face in half now, as he stepped forwards, face hovering right before hers, expression still darkened.

“Stop that smug grin, will you? Fine, I wanted to do something nice for you. Not anymore.”

Her expression darkened as she remembered the situation he'd brought them into.

“Well, I don't want you to do something nice for me. I want you to get inside and let me trace back the signal and go to that planet you just put into danger. You don't have to come. But you _will_ take me there.”

“Fine,” the Master spit. “I'll take you. And then I'm gonna bloody leave the second you're out. If you like that planet that much, just stay there, why don't you!”

“Fine!” she called back. “What do I care? Even an Ice Warrior infected planet is better than living with _you_!”

She stormed inside, smashing the door into his face the second he attempted to follow her and sat down in the console room, arms crossed in anger and her foot rocking up and down in clear impatience.

“Well?” she asked when he walked in. “What are you waiting for?”

“The signal, you utter moron.”

She threw her sonic screwdriver at his head, where it bounced from his forehead into his open hands.

He gave her one last murderous glare, then turned around to plug it into his console, working hard for a few minutes, typing and switching levers with his teeth still gritted in silent rage, until a result appeared on his monitor.

“Uhm.”

He looked up at the Doctor, his stormy expression swapped for a vividly confused one and her hearts beat in sudden worry. Whatever had wiped his anger away from him like this couldn't be good.

“What is it?” she asked, curiosity taking over her tone and softening it.

“They've gone straight to... well... Take a look at it."

She got up with a roll of her eyes, standing next to him and frowning up at the screen.

“Well, they're definitely having high hopes with me out of the way,” the Doctor remarked dryly when the first shock had passed. “Think we should tell them that there's nothing left of Gallifrey other than desolate ruins and shatters of our last great explosion?”

The Master bit his lip almost awkwardly.

“We could just... let them find out for themselves.”

“Nah, we gotta go,” she sighed. “There might still be something left of technology they should never, ever get their hands on.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit nervous, now.

“Doctor, there's... there's something you should know about Gallifrey.”


	8. Chapter 8

“You did... what?”

“Well, I had to bring them somewhere,” the Master muttered under his breath. “Was as good as any place, really.”

“As good as any place?” The Doctor's voice was far too shrill for her own tastes. “It's our home you're talking about!”

“It's their home, too,” the Master shrugged. “And at least there's no one there they could accidentally convert.”

The Doctor stared at him, jaw tightened and eyes narrowed in cold anger.

“You left a bunch of regenerating Cybermen on the most vital, most wanted planet in the universe. You left them with the Matrix!”

“It's not as if they're gonna do anything with it,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. “I gave them orders to stay away.”

“Oh, great, you gave them orders.” She turned away, shaking her head in silent desperation. “It's like I've got sucked into a horror movie without a way out.”

“Yeah,” the Master, to her surprise, agreed. “I know that feeling.”

“So,” the Doctor sighed, resting against his console for a minute. “Cyber-Lords versus Ice Warriors, who do you reckon will win?”

The gave her a look.

“Actually, I call them Cyber-Masters.”

“Why?”

The Master stepped closer with a frown.

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why? Doesn't make much sense to me.”

He pulled a lever.

“I'm the Master.”

“Yeah, I know,” the Doctor replied, smiling sweetly. “But _they're_ not.”

The Master stared at her. The Doctor stared back.

For a moment, no one spoke a word.

“Okay, point taken. But it's too late to change the name now, right?”

“The Cyberium,” she asked with a sigh. “What happened to it?”

The Master raised a finger, tapping against the side of his head with a smug grin.

“Please. It was fun while it lasted, but I've not really much interest in ending up like Ashad did, some half-converted fool running around for the cause of the Cybermen. They're my army, not the other way around.”

“So?”

“So I removed it,” he shrugged. “Locked it into a stasis chamber in my TARDIS until I know what to do with it.”

They had landed.

The Doctor pulled at his monitor, watching it with a little frown.

“Nothing to see yet.” Her eyes flinched upwards to his face, just for a moment, her voice full of resentment when she spoke next. “Except for ruins.”

“I think that was a given, love.”

She wished she could wipe that bloody smug smirk right off his face.

Instead, she curled her hands to fists, staring down at the console, trying to focus on their conversation.

“So you're telling me you performed open surgery on your own brain?”

He grinned at her.

“Your voice is shaking a little, love, everything alright? If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd sound angry. Appalled, even.”

“Just answer my question,” she snapped and he had the audacity to laugh.

“I just threatened it so it would leave. It was simple.”

“Threatened it?” the Doctor inquired with a raised eyebrow. “What could it possibly be afraid of?”

“Told it I'd go back to meet you and have you chat all about the ins and outs of cricket for hours.”

His grin never quite reached his eyes, she noticed, even while he was evading hers.

The Doctor crossed her arms in front of her chest, still once in a while checking the monitor for movement.

“Why aren't you telling me? What gain could I possibly have from that information?”

“Well, it was unspectacular, really,” the Master replied, walking around the console to take a look at the monitor himself. “Wouldn't want to bore you. I know how cranky you get when you're bored.”

“Nothing against how cranky I get when I don't get the answers I want,” she pointed out truthfully.

He ignored her for a moment, but seemed to still feel her eyes boring into his side, because after a while of pretending to stare at the screen, he turned back to her with a sigh.

“I just told it I'd fry both of us in a bath of melted gold, okay? Cybermen don't like gold, it kills them, we all know that. You, me and the Cyberium.”

The Doctor snorted.

“It can't possibly have believed that.”

“It knows I'm capable of a lot of monstrosities. It's not my fault you seem to keep on forgetting it whenever it's convenient for your sentimental nature.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Not that you'd kill _it_. That you'd kill _yourself_ like that in process.”

She looked at him, a half-smile on her lips that quickly died as she saw the look in his eyes. The Master didn't say anything, just awkwardly pointed at the monitor.

“We should go out. There's something happening.”

She wanted to say something, her mouth had already opened, but he was punching something into the console and a glance back to the screen assured her that he was right. A bunch of Ice Warriors were walking over the planet, looking around a bit lost.

“Okay, well then...” she muttered under her breath and headed for the door. Standing there, she turned around again, looking back at him as he just finished pushing buttons.

“What are you doing?”

The Master gave her a glance.

“Force field around the ship. So they can't attack us while we talk. I'm not an idiot like you are.”

“I'm not an idiot!” she called back with a hand on her hip. “I use a forcefield sometimes!”

“Barely,” he quipped, opening the door from behind her and holding it open.

“That's because I barely need it,” the Doctor replied, slipping outside with a glare into his direction.

“Right, right,” the Master snorted. “And where did that bring you? Oh that's right. Into my ship, because you've _lost_ yours.”

“That's not because...”

She stopped herself, standing face to face with an Ice Warrior who was staring at her with something that almost seemed like a betrayed expression.

Behind her, the Master snickered.

“Sorry, mate, I know I said you'd be unbothered, but she got a bit bitchy, so I took her.”

“Don't call me bitchy!” The Doctor turned around, slapping him lightly on the arm, making the Master grin.

“See what I have to put up with?”

“Oh, just shut up, will you?”  
  
She turned back to the Ice Warriors. “As you can see, there's nothing left of Gallifrey to conquer – He's made sure of that.”

The Ice Warriors looked... concerned. Again and again, they exchanged looks, before the leader finally turned towards the Master, who was standing in the back with his hands behind his back and a wide grin on his face.

“You did this?”

The Master's grin turned cold.

“I did.”

“With what army?”

A bitter laugh slipped from the Master's lips.

“No army. Just me. I'm my own army.” He winked at them. “Well, there's also them, but they're new. Didn't help with this at all.”

Behind the Ice Warriors, silently commanded, the Master's army of Cyber-Lords walked up around them in a tight circle, standing down and waiting for more orders.

The Master's eyes were as cold as his smile when the Ice Warriors returned their gazes to him.

Oh, they'd respected the Doctor, they'd heard of her, had known to back off when facing her, but what was on their faces now was pure terror. Terror in face of the man who stood here in the ruins of Gallifrey with her, commanding an army of Cybermen.

Involuntarily, they took a step backwards, away from him, only to quickly stop when they found themselves too close to the Cybermen behind them. She could see one of them swallow.

“We shall leave, then.”

“Fine with me,” the Master replied with a cheery smile and a wave.

“Wait, what? We can't just let them leave!” the Doctor called out and he rolled his eyes.

With lowered voice, he hissed, “Let them go, Doctor.”

“But they could-”

“They could what? Invade some random planet at some point? Maybe. But right now, they haven't done anything yet. What do you want me to do? Order them to slaughter them for something they _might_ do? Then how, exactly, would that make you any better than me?”

She stared at him.

“Did you just talk me out of murder?”

He shrugged. “Can't resist a chance to point out what a hypocrite you are.” Raising his hand, the Master waved at the ring of Cybermen around them and waved them aside.

“Let them go,” he said again, this time louder and they heard him, shifting aside to let the army through.

The Doctor watched them teleport back off the planet in panicked haste, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that had very little to do with the exit of the army, not even with the Cybermen or the ruins of her childhood home, and everything to do with the Master being right.

“I want to have a look around,” she finally said, voice dark as she looked out onto the landscapes of Gallifrey. Or what was left of them, anyway. “Can you please tell them not to kill me when I walk around?”

The Master shrugged.

“Sure. Dunno what you're hoping to find, though, there's nothing left.”

“I don't know,” she admitted truthfully. “A TARDIS, maybe. Something.”

Hope.

“No other TARDIS survived, Doctor, you know this.”

“Yeah, whatever. I need a walk.”  
  
  
She didn't pay him much more mind, just started walking without another look to him, ashes whirling up around her wherever her step went. He was right, of course, there was nothing where-ever she looked, just devastation and wasteland that made her hearts ache.

The Master was not far behind her, giving her a little head-start to give her space, but apparently unable to let her go alone. She wondered, faintly, if there was still something left he was hiding from her or if he was trying to guarantee that she wasn't actually brutally murdered or converted by his army behind his back.

That's when she found a little wrecked hut on the outskirts of what had once been the forests. Only half the walls were left standing and they looked like they wouldn't last much longer, but when the Doctor got closer, she could feel energy surge from the other side. With a frown, she climbed in, one leg already over one of the lower walls, when the Master was suddenly right behind her, hand on her shoulder holding her back.

“What are you doing? That looks unsafe.”

“There's something in there,” she pointed out, swinging her other leg over.

“Doctor, wait-”

But she was already rushing in deeper, ignoring him. With a sigh, the Master climbed in behind her, hands in his coat pockets and an annoyed look on his face as she stepped around the corner and saw... them.

“Looms,” she frowned. “What are looms doing here?”

“I've hidden them.”

She turned around in surprise. “You did?”

He shrugged reluctantly.

“Wouldn't want someone like these Ice Warriors today to find them.”

“But you didn't destroy them,” the Doctor replied with a deep frown on her forehead. “Why not? What could you possibly still need looms for?”

“Not everyone has unlimited regeneration energy, you know?” the Master huffed. “I thought, maybe, if one day my cycle ends...”  
  
“Hah, very funny,” she gave back with a snort. “Looms need someone to operate them. If you thought that I would...-”

“I have an entire army at my expense,” the Master interrupted her, his voice unnatural loud. “I don't need _you_.”

“And that army has fully functioning regeneration cycles you could simply take, without needing to loom yourself a new body. And even if you wanted to loom a body still, there's more than one here. So what is this?”

“You know what, I'm going back. Come with me or stay here, I don't care, I'm getting sick of this planet.”

“Yeah yeah, Master of Evasion,” she muttered, but followed him outside of the ruins, back towards his TARDIS. “I suppose it's part of whatever massive plan you're currently cooking up, then?”

“Think what you want,” he replied shortly. “I don't care.”

“Jeez, lighten up.”

She leaned against his shoulder, pointing into the distance, where a patch of red grass was growing through the ashes and shatters of their planet. “Look.”

“If you're about to give me some speech about beauty finding its way through the darkest of times, I will punch you.”  
  
She grinned.

“Don't have to, it's already in your head.”

“Oh, screw you.”  
  
She rolled her eyes, her hand finding his.

“You used to like the red grasses.”

He gave her a quick look, then stared ahead of them again, walking faster all of a sudden, almost making her stumble.

“When I was a teenager, two thousand years ago, maybe. And even then, I just...-”

“You just what?” she asked when he didn't continue to speak.

The Master ignored her, pressing his lips together angrily.

“You _what_?” she asked again, louder now. “Just liked it because of _me_?”

“Oh look at that,” the Master replied sweetly. “The ashes have finally gone up to your head and muddled your brain.”

“Sorry, I forgot, admitting you liked me is something you only did as a teenager, 2000 years ago.”  
  
“Pretty sure I never did it then, either,” the Master grumbled and to her own surprise, the Doctor started giggling.

“No, you really didn't. But I knew anyway.”

He didn't say anything, but he seemed to have developed a tunnel vision and took the last few steps to his TARDIS as quick as he could without outright running.

“You _did_ like me, right?” she asked as he tore open the door and he stood on the threshold for a minute, frozen, before he turned around to her.

“Of course I did, idiot. Now get in here, before I leave you alone with that patch of grass you've clearly fallen in love with.”  
  
“It represents hope,” the Doctor replied smugly, feeling light-hearted all of a sudden. “You'll get it, someday.”

The Master gave her a long look.

“Haven't given up hope on that yet, have you?”

She reacted so quickly, he had barely any time to process what was happening. Standing on her tip toes, she leaned in, pressed a gentle kiss onto his lips and smiled into his shocked face.

“Never.”


	9. Chapter 9

The Master's TARDIS had given her her books back. So, naturally, the Doctor had piled them up to two big towers and was currently practising balancing on them, one foot on each, legs spread a bit too widely and her stance a bit too wobbly, when the Master opened her door and threw her off balance.

“Hey!” she called out while she felt herself fall backwards. A loud banging sound accompanied her as she found herself lying with aching bones in a huge pile of books.

“She should've never allowed you any of those,” the Master grumbled. “That's a perfectly fine first edition of Dracula ruined.”

“I'm fine,” the Doctor replied dully. “Thanks for asking.”

“I'll have her take these away from you the second you're leaving the room.”

“You were not even supposed to know of this room,” the Doctor muttered.

He snorted.

“Aw, you really thought that, did you? She doesn't have secrets from me – She knows better than that.” His voice had taken on a mildly threatening tone. “Now, get up you absolute dork, we've landed on Skaro five minutes ago.”

“Skaro?” the Doctor spluttered, quickly climbing back to her feet. “You were serious about that?”

“Utterly.”

“But-”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I'm not going to discuss this with you. Are you coming or not?”

“Fine,” she raised her hands in defeat. “I'm coming. But I'm warning you, they're...”

“What, Doctor? What could you possibly warn me about regarding _Daleks_ that I don't already know?”

“They're really not my biggest fans,” she grinned, then slipped out of the little room past him, her shoulders brushing against him and she saw him visibly flinch.

“What?” she asked, standing still in the corridor to look back at him.

“Nothing.”

“You flinched.”

“I did not-”

“You absolutely flinched. Since when are you scared to touch me?”

“I'm not, I just-”

“You flinched back from me like I'm something disgusting. Quite honestly, I'm offended.”

She attempted to give him a playful jab to his hip and he almost jumped back, eyes wide and hands trembling slightly.

“What on-”

“It's nothing, alright, just drop it already.”

The Doctor's eyes narrowed as she stepped closer to him. The Master backed away until he was standing in her tiny room, the back of his knees hitting against the mattress of her bed.

“What is it?” she asked, voice dark and he looked small, all of a sudden, visibly shrinking in front of her.

“We should go. If they see my TARDIS standing here, they might set up guards and I don't know how much longer...”

The Doctor's hand went back to his hip and he reacted in lightening speed, grabbing her wrist and squeezing it until she hissed in pain and took a step back. He released her and quickly slipped away.  
  
“Don't do that again,” she grumbled. “That hurt.”

“Then leave me the hell alone!” he was shouting on his way out, whirling back around to her, then visibly flinched at the movement.

“You're hurt!” she called out. “I can see it! You're hurt! Is it your hip?”

“My hip is fine,” the Master hissed.

“No, it's not, it's hurting. Let me see. Did the wound not heal well? It should be healed by now.”

“It's...” The Master stared at her for a moment, then rolled his eyes in clear defeat. “Fine. Fine. It's inflamed, okay?”

“No, that's not okay,” the Doctor replied, making quick work of his coat and waistcoat now that he had finally stopped moving, laying free the wound. “Damn. You wanted to go out battle Daleks like this?”

“I'm not a patient person,” the Master grumbled, making the Doctor chuckle lightly.

Not that there was much to chuckle about, with his wound all red and messy like that. It looked like something incredibly brutal had burnt itself through his skin. To her, it seemed a miracle the Master was even standing straight right now.  
  
“You planned plots stretching for longer than some of my friend's life spans.”

“And while that can be fun,” he gave her a weak little smirk, “patience wasn't exactly my strongest virtue during those.”

“Come on, sit down.”

She gently pushed him towards the bed and he obediently let himself sink onto the mattress, a little sigh escaping him.

“No way to keep you from making a fuss now, is there?”

The Doctor was barely listening, already muttering steps to herself and pleads to his TARDIS. Within minutes, a little door in the wall appeared and opened to a first aid kit.

“See?” she muttered while quickly pouring disinfectant on a cotton pad. “She listens to me, too.”

“She'd let Davros sweet-talk her if she thought it'd be the best for me,” he replied darkly. “Not an impressive achievement, love.”

The Doctor smirked, even as he flinched under her touch when she carefully applied fresh disinfectant.

“She cares about you.”

“I s'ppose,” he brought out through gritted teeth. “Doesn't feel like that right now, though.”

“Done in a bit. And then I'll apply some ointment and some fresh bandages to keep it clean and pad it a little.”

He nodded shortly, his face unusual pale.

“So what do you want from Skaro?”

“I thought I'd finally let Davros teach me how to become an idiot who blabbers all their plans to you and have them fall apart.”

The Doctor gave him a little smirk, fingers gently brushing over his wound to apply some ointment, careful not to cause him any more pain.

“You do that expertly already.”

“Maybe sometimes I get a bit carried away,” the Master admitted with a sulky mumble and she couldn't help but grin at him from her spot on the floor in front of him.

“You always ruin your own disguises just to see my face when you tell me it's you,” she reminded him gently and he rolled his eyes.

“That's all I _do_ them for. Who cares. You stop me whether or not I'm disguised. That way I guess I get to enjoy you stunned for a moment.”

She grabbed some bandages and started wrapping them around his hip. He hissed a little in pain, but let her work, gaze settled calmly onto her.

“It's almost fun, you know? Being here, watching you scheme out all your silly plans. Of course, you're not telling me much and I'm trying to piece things together, but I'm not quite there yet.”

The Master gave her a crooked smirk and she could see gentle amusement shining through.

“Yes, well. That's rather the point.”

“I suppose I'm gonna see soon enough?” she asked, eyebrows raised and he shrugged carefully.

“I think so. Couldn't perform any sort of plan without you hearing about it eventually.”

“Surely not.” She sat up straight, buttoning his shirt back up. He was looking down and she could feel his eyes on her all the way to the top. “Couldn't get my attention that way, could you now? Of course, I'm living with you now, so technically you really wouldn't have to do this sort of thing to...-” She had reached the last button as he took her hands carefully into his, pressing them to his chest.

“Have dinner with me,” he said simply.

“Oh?”

“I could cook. Or I'll take you out. Actually, let's go out, you're in here often enough. How does Frairi sound to you? They do offer the best desserts in the galaxy. Have you ever been?”

She had opened her mouth, ready to say no, ready to ask him what he was going to do about his plans on Skaro, what about Gallifrey and the looms and the ruins and the dust and the Cybermen army waiting for him but she could feel the beating of his hearts quicken beneath her fingers, could feel his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand, rubbing soothing circles into her skin and she _had_ just been about to tell him that if he wanted attention, he only needed to ask, so who was she, really, to reject him now?

“I- fine. But you behave. No secret agenda. Just dinner.”

“Just dinner.” The grin spreading on his face looked so natural, so real, she couldn't help the way her own hearts sped up now. “Maybe a bit of dancing. Does that count as secret agenda?”

“You just told me, so I think it's fine. As long as you promise not to suck out my soul during the dance or something.”

The Master finally let go of her, still grinning, and slipped back into his coat.

“What for. I already know your soul inside and out.”

She couldn't find a reply, mostly because she really wanted to prove him wrong and simply couldn't. It had nothing to do with him leaning forward and kissing her lips with surprising tenderness, mirroring perfectly the kiss she'd left him stunned with the other day.

Absolutely nothing to do with that.

Frairi _did_ have the best desserts.

She wasn't sure about his claim about them being the best in the entire galaxy, but she'd give him at least a few light-years.

The Master had ordered a bit of bread with a variety of dips, some drinks for both of them and then, with the expression of a man resigned to his fate, straight-up ordered every dessert on the menu for them. Twice.

“She's not going to eat anything else,” he'd entrusted the waiter with, a pink, scaly little man. “And she's not a good enough actor for me to sit through her pretending to try.”

Somewhere in there was an insult, she was quite sure of that, or at least something she should take offence in, but all of that was forgotten when the mountains of chocolate cake, pudding, ice cream and shakes reached their little table, all garnished with a variation of fruit you could only get in this corner of the universe and several sprinkles and sauces.

“Best dinner ever!” she called out, already between two different desserts and the Master sighed heavily.

“I might have been a bit too... optimistic with that word.”

“Which word?” she asked with full mouth and he had to avert his eyes to not laugh out loud.

“Dinner. This is more like... a massacre of sweets.”

She ignored him for a huge spoon of something that reminded her of chocolate mousse but tasted so, _so_ much better.

“Try this!” With an excited grin and a swing of her chair, she leaned forward and shoved a spoonful into the Master's unsuspecting mouth.

He grimaced and swallowed hard.

“Too sweet!” he replied, shuddering dramatically. “How the hell can you eat that without your nails curling upwards?”

“Iss so good!” she replied, mouth full yet again and he rolled his eyes.

“You're gross.”

“No, you're gross.”

Granted, it wasn't the best of her comebacks, but it's not like she could focus, not with this variety of paradise on the table, waiting to be consumed.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, smirking.

“Yeah.” Sure, why not. Let's pretend he wasn't looking utterly to die for, in his dark purple galaxy suit and his hair all soft, gently waving in the warm summer wind of Frairi, the candlelight illuminating him and making his skin glow.

Let's do _that_.

“Then I suppose that's that for my promised dance?”

The Doctor pinched her lips together, looking almost apologetic.

“I am but a man of my word,” she finally said. “If I promised you a dance, then I shall deliver, no matter how repulsive I find you.”

The Master almost snorted into his wine glass.

“You, my love, are a horrendous liar.”

“And you, my love, are horrendous.”

She was resting her head on her hands, grinning at him softly, somehow lightening the weight of her words and so he merely smirked at her and pushed back his chair to walk around the table and stop next to hers.

All charming old-time gentleman, he held out a hand to her.

“Would you like this dance with your horrendous, repulsive, and gross, yet not-soul sucking best enemy?”

“I believe it can be arranged,” she grinned and readily flung herself off her chair and straight into his arms. “Will you be okay? Won't it hurt your hip?”

The Master snorted gently.

“You make me sound like an old man, please, do leave me some of my dignity. I'll be just fine.”

It was nice. He'd reserved a table for them on the outside terrace, looking down at the canals of the little ocean city. The night was warm and beautiful and barely anyone was in the lovely little restaurant – The people who were didn't pay them any mind, just smiled at them between bites whenever they brushed by.

Like they were just a normal couple, having fun with others.

It was peaceful, honestly. There was soft music coming from the inside and the Master swayed her gently in tact with it, smiling warmly at her. She so rarely had peaceful with him, she simply let it happen, her head falling onto his shoulder, her cheek against his and for a few golden moments, nothing mattered but him and her, the steady feeling of his pulse against her, his hand holding hers, his other on her waist, warm and secure and familiar and so right.

She forgot all about being basically homeless, about his plans, about Gallifrey, forget about how lost she felt, because with him, she felt found.

“What are you thinking?” he whispered softly between songs and the Doctor smiled.

“How very not repulsive you are.”

“Aw, I feel honoured. You're not all terrible either.”

“I believe the word you used was gross.”

“No, you're still gross,” he replied. “And you're going to stay gross for as long as your teeth are black from that mousse thingy you ate - I can see them whenever you smile at me. Which, by the way, is a _lot_."

“They're not!” She tore herself from him to frantically rub her teeth with a finger and he watched her, laughing loudly.

“They're a little.”

She was still rubbing at her teeth when he gently took her hand back into his, stepping closer.

“Fine,”, he said and she froze on the spot, melting from the sudden spark of affection in his dark eyes. “You're not _that_ gross. I don't really mind. See?"

He pulled her into another kiss but somehow, this one felt different. Longer, for instance and far, far heavier. His lips were soft and tasted of a delicious mix of not-quite-chocolate mousse and him. Always him, shining through whatever he was trying to use to cover himself up and she couldn't help but be drawn to it, again and again and again.

She sank into his arms, the music and the dance forgotten, as they stood on the lovely little terrace and kissed like their life depended on it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone dropped a bottle of ginger ale and there was a giant puddle on the floor and I stepped in and slipped and all the smut in my pockets just... rolled out. So sorry. It will likely happen again!

They stumbled home with their arms intertwined, giggles on their lips and the smell of alcohol and ginger ale filling the air between them.

It's been a while since the Doctor had allowed herself to be properly tipsy. She was too used to always having to be ready for every eventuality, every possible danger that could rain down on her and people she loved at any time.

It was weird, how being around the Master, of all people, had made her feel safe enough to send her head spinning.

And he was just as drunk next to her, laughing about some feather that had got caught in her hair as he frantically tried to pull it out and kept on missing.

“Can't reach it,” he finally giggled. “I'm the smartest-”

“Second smartest.”

“Definitely the smartest person in the universe but I can't keep my hand straight enough to get it out.”

“Second smartest,” she said again, then started laughing. “Funny word, smartest. Smartestest-est. We're the smartestest-test people ever.”

“You're people, I'm just smart.”

She formed a perfect, outraged 'Oh' at his words.

“That's so rude. I'm not people. Do I look like people to you? Has my TARDIS-free lifestyle made me ordinary?”

She leant closer to him, finger poking into his chest and the Master chuckled, leaning closer to her in return, his shoulder pressed against his TARDIS door, his hair all tousled up and his cheeks flushed.

He was a gorgeous, homey, comfy mess, just for her.

“Never,” he breathed, sounding almost sober as he did, if it wasn't for the cloud of ginger and alcohol hitting her. “You're as far away from ordinary as you are from being the smartest person in the universe.”

The Doctor opened her mouth, then closed it again. Frowned, and opened again, unsure how to proceed from here.

“But I am...-”

He raised a finger and gave her his best rendition of a very intense, over-acted look of “Think about what you're saying”.

“I am not ordinary. So I am not... the smartest... Hey, you're totally cheating!”

The door silently swung open beside them and he had one hand in the frame, one foot already inside, when he whirled around back to her, pressing a soft kiss onto her lips with a wide grin, before rushing back inside.

“Of course I am. I always cheat. It's 'cuz I love winning so much.”

She followed him inside and looked around. Everything looked strange, somehow. The light was dimmed, basking them in warm, golden glow and the Master stood in the middle of it, impatiently pulling at his tie before letting it fall to the ground carelessly. He let himself fall down onto one of his sofas, feet up the console and a smirk on his face, as he patted the free seat next to him.

“Join me?”

It looked homely, the Doctor realised. Like coming home. It looked like something, that for a moment, with her mind blurred and her focus on him, could make her forget what she had lost.

There was a way forward, it came to her with astounding clarity. _He_ was her way forward.

“Yes.”

He must've noticed the sudden change of atmosphere, because his smirk turned into a frown.

“You okay?”

“I think so.”

She let herself fall down beside him, sitting on his hand for a while, because he was still watching her with obvious confusion, then he pulled it out from beneath her and they both broke out into a new wave of giggling.

“It was nice,” she said after a little while, when they had both calmed again. “Tonight. Was nice.”

“Nothing I do is nice,” the Master replied, attempting to sound dark and dangerous and instead sounding like a little boy announcing universal domination for the first time. She'd watched him do that too, more than once, now that she thought about it. Blue eyes all wide and intense, the first attempts of beard-growing still making her laugh at his stupid face every single time. She'd laughed then, she still laughed now.

“Breathtaking is what I do. And impressive and fantastic and brilliant and...”

The Doctor shifted in her seat, head sinking onto his shoulder while the rest of her body comfortably rested against his and he stopped in the middle of his pointless rant, freezing beside her.

“This is nice, too,” she said cheerfully.

He let a breath escape and gradually relaxed, an arm going around to her squeeze her shoulder gently.

“Yeah,” he finally agreed reluctantly. “I suppose it is.”

“Hey, do you remember when we got drunk together in the Academy?” The Doctor sat up straight, grinning from one ear to the other as she turned back to look at him and on the Master's face spread an equally wide grin.

“You were a lightweight!” he laughed. “A few sips and I had to carry you back to our room.”

“That was you!” She jumped up, pointing at him accusatory. “I had always sneaked into my father's wine cellar and drank bottle after bottle, but you've been way too well-behaved... Before I found you,” the Doctor finished with a smirk.

“Oh, that's right.” He threw his head back with a grimace of reminiscing on his face. “You insisted we'd sneak into Borusa's office and steal the whiskey we knew he hid in his bottom drawer, even though we had perfectly good wine from the kitchens.”

“Well, it was more fun that way. He always was so nervous and on edge the next lessons, too!”

The Master broke out into an amused giggle.

“That he was. Didn't even call us out on our hangover.”

“Well, he couldn't, could he?” The Doctor snuggled back into his arms with a cheery laugh. “Would've given himself away, then.”

“It was good.”

A sudden silence fell over them and both of them found themselves having nothing left to laugh about.

“It was,” she agreed calmly.

No one said anything for a while. In his arms, the Doctor felt her thoughts go back and forth between so many memories, so many good times, all replaced by grief and rage and hate and cruelness and the ever-ongoing question of how they ended up like this.

She'd almost forgotten that he was here, when he got up, gently shaking her off him and then offering her a hand to pull her off the sofa, too.

“We should go to bed, unless we want to risk another classic Theta and Koschei hangover.”

Hearing him say those names like this made her flinch – She couldn't help it. It had been too long since she'd even allowed anyone to use that name, least of all him. And she'd thought he'd never, _ever_...

“Doctor?”

“Huh? Oh. Yes. Bed. Good idea. Absolutely. Yes.”

He squeezed her hand once and then led the way into the dark corridor, not letting go of her. The Doctor found her stomach doing loops at the thought of letting go of him. She didn't want to. She _couldn't_. Right now he was all she had left and she felt oddly close to him.

Luckily, he didn't seem to have any attention to let go of her. At least that's what she gathered when he pushed open his bedroom door and gently led her inside, an additional hand resting on the small of her back when he realised she wasn't going to move in on her own.

“That's not my room,” she blurted out and he chuckled lightly.

“No way I'm gonna let you sleep in that hole of yours tonight. Just sleep with me, the bed's king-sized.”

“Oh,” she muttered. “Right. Thanks.”

He vanished for a while and while the Doctor felt a weird empty space inside of her the second he was through the door, it was alright. She curled up in his bed, wearing just her underwear, the rainbow shirt and her socks, and took in his smell in several deep breaths, feeling the warmth of his duvets and the softness of his pillows. It was all purple, too, because of course it was and it felt a bit like an embrace, until he returned in purple satin pyjamas (seriously?) with two glasses full of water, putting one down on her bedside table.

He had two in here, she noticed. As if he was sharing his bedroom. She'd never been in his bedroom. Over the centuries, whenever they had had sex, it's been in the weirdest places. Against her TARDIS wall, several times. Who the hell would he be sharing it with?

“What's wrong?”

He was climbing into the bed beside her and she felt the rise of the duvet as he slipped underneath it. There was one on his side, a second one, but he ignored it. Why did he have two duvets?

“You... you have a two-person bedroom,” she blabbered before she could stop herself and he threw his head back and laughed.

“Are you _jealous_?”

“I... No, of course not. Wouldn't even know who I'd be jealous of,” she mumbled darkly and he leaned to her side of the bed to press a kiss to her temple.

“It's just my TARDIS being considerate. I'm not sharing. Not my bedroom and not you.”

The Doctor regarded him with a frown, oddly relieved to find that she believed him. That's when the second part of his statement sank in.

“You don't have to share me,” she said dully and he snorted.

“Yeah, right.”

“No, really. I...”

A thousand truths whirled through her alcohol-clouded mind. It was true that she would immediately drop everything for him. It is true that, while she had tried to fill the void of him, she'd jumped into dozens of friendships and relationships head over heels, burnt through them like a sun trying to warm ice. Incompatible. It had only ever been him, her missing piece, the bane of her existence.

Before she could find one he could possibly believe, however, he had turned off the little night-light beside his bed and plunged them into darkness.

“Just sleep, Doctor.”

He did that a lot, now that she thought about it. Plunging them into darkness while she was still trying to figure out her way back to him.

She wasn't having any of it tonight.

“Nope.”

With new determination, she rolled over the mattress to where she assumed he lay and found herself suddenly lying on top of him.

“What the hell are you-”

She crashed her lips down to where she heard his voice coming from and found something wet and cool and pressed her tongue inside.

“Doctor, ow! That's my eye, for heaven's sake.”

“Oh.” She snorted on top of him, halting temporarily. “Sorry.”

Hands on her shoulder guided her a bit further down and warm lips found hers, beard tickled her chin just right and she sighed into the kiss. Much better than kissing eyes, that.

And much better than lying around in the darkness, contemplating tons and tons of bad life decisions. Right now, all she wanted was lose what was left of her mind and get lost in him.

The Master obliged exemplarily. Frantic, grabbing hands were pressing her against his hip and she could feel his cock grind against her. She was wearing nothing but her underwear down there and he was in satin that she quickly got rid off, relieved to find the normal fabric of checked boxers beneath.

“So pretentious,” she muttered but quickly lost her train of thought when his hands slid underneath her shirt, squeezing and cupping her breasts and playing with her nipples.

Good. This was good. A quick, hard fuck was just what she needed. _He_ was just what she needed.

His lips roughly moved over the side of her neck, leaving sloppy kisses in their wake, teeth grazed her beautifully and she knew she'd be marked all over tomorrow and realised with an odd leap of her stomach that there was no one to hide him from.

Her hips bucked downwards, grinding against him desperately, a result of that thought or his hands or his lips or a combination of all, she didn't know. All she knew was that he was all around her, completely engulfing her. His TARDIS, his bedroom, his sheets, his arms, his lips, his smell, his mind and it felt _right_.

She pulled down his boxers with shaking hands but they calmed when she wrapped his cock into her fist, stroking it hard and fast and he moaned beneath her, melting back into his pillows with glazed eyes.

“Ride me,” he breathed huskily and the Doctor found there was nothing she'd rather do.

She gave him a few more strokes with one hand, the other disappearing between her own legs. She was wet, soaked actually, when she removed her own boxers and gave her clit a few experimental rubs.

“Doctor...” The Master's voice was strained, whiny almost and she grinned, leaning forwards to press a kiss to his lips, before climbing onto her knees, positioning herself. He was big and his head against her entrance made her shiver in anticipation. For a few moments, she just sat there, slowly getting used to the feeling of it, then she sank down on him, pulling a shaky moan from his lips.

“Gods, you're beautiful.”

She wondered, distantly, if he'd still tell her any of this sober and found she didn't care. His hands went to her hips, fingers splayed on her skin, boring into her as she began moving, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He was panting beneath her and she watched as his eye-lids fluttered shut again and again, only for him to tear them open again, to watch her with a look of hunger and longing that got more intense every time that he did.

She rocked on his hips, felt him sink inside of her, shifted a little and almost shouted out when he hit just the right spot. He lifted up the mattress impatiently, trying to meet her and they clumsily, beautifully crashed together somewhere in the middle, both moaning the other's name.

“I-I'm gonna...” he said after a while of frantic thrusting and she nodded, lower lip tugged between her teeth to keep herself from groaning as she clenched around him and found herself lost in a powerful orgasm. He lasted a few more thrusts while she rode it out, then gave in to the sensation of her contracting around him, whispering Gallifreyan curses as he came.

She let him slip out with a wet, squelching sound and for a second, just sat on top of him, watching his come drip out of her and roll down her thighs.

Just as she was debating a shower, the Master held open his arms and gently wiggled his legs beneath her, so that she'd move.

“Come 'ere.”

Without another thought, the Doctor rolled off him and straight into his arms. Familiar, warm, comforting arms, holding her through the night.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extra long pause, I had all my wisdom teeth extracted, then had complications, but I'm starting to feel like a human again!

The first thing the Doctor realised when she woke up was that her head was throbbing.

The next were throbbing hearts against her back.

The next was a softer bed than the one she had gotten used to, silky, cool sheets wrapped around her – around _them_ , because there it was - a warm, naked body holding hers intimately close.

His breath was hot against the back of her neck where her hair was already sticking sweatily to her forehead.

She looked around, careful not to move too abruptly, not wanting to wake the Master up.

Despite the size of the bed, they had curled up together in the middle of it, inhabiting the tiniest of spots, his legs between hers, his arms around her hips. She could feel the weight of him against her back and arse and oh Gods, she was sore.

Right. Okay.

Memories came back to her in scrambled pieces. Dinner, a lot of desserts, a lot lot of ginger in all forms, dancing, tumbling, laughing, clumsy kissing, drunken sex. Scene after scene rained down on her, in wrong order, sudden and loud and the Doctor's hearts sped up after every single one.

It had been... nice? Over the years, centuries, really, they've done a lot of... well that. Hate-fucking, anger-fucking, quick-fucking, sad-fucking, they had a whole list of emotions they had somehow attempted to solve with fucking over a lot of incarnations.

This, this was new. This had been a dinner date and clumsy, sloppy kisses tasting of ginger, gentle touches, dancing and... well, it'd been _nice_.

She _felt_ nice. All content and achy, but in that good sort of way, the way that left her with endorphins and the gentle reminder of what had happened the night before.

And warm.

He was warm, the bed was warm, she was warm at the thought of him, inside her, around her, and...-

“You're rambling,” the Master's sleepy mutter interrupted her thoughts and the Doctor flinched guiltily.

“I'm not even speaking,” she tried weakly, turning her head towards him.  
  
He opened an eye, somehow managing to look at her accusatory even in a half-asleep, one-eyed state.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Okay, I've been rambling a little. It's been a while since I woke up in my arch enemy's bed.”

The Master's other eye snapped open and he sat up a little, facing her.

“Any other arch enemies involved or can I assume it was just as long for you as it was for me?”

The Doctor couldn't help the little grin appearing on her face.

“Please. As if you'd leave room for anyone else. I heard what you did to the Eleven, by the way.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of the Master's mouth.

“They called them The Twelve after that, I believe.”

“No need to make innocent people regenerate just because they wanted to pull at my hair for a bit.”

“Phhh, please.” The Master's arms around her tightened possessively and the Doctor found she didn't particularly... mind. “Nothing innocent about them.”

She couldn't stop herself – She leant up, pressing a little kiss to his cheek.

“What's that for?” he asked and she raised her chin with a wide grin at him.

“The Eleven never got a kiss.”

“Too bad for them.”

But he seemed appeased, leaning back against the pillows, a hand gently stroking through her hair. For a moment, she let herself sink into the touch, let it soothe away her headache and the tiredness in her bones as she curled back into his arms.

“So, I was thinking...” she broke the silence after a while and he hummed as a sign that he was listening, fingers lightly tracing over her back now. “Today is definite hangover-recovery day.”

She couldn't see his smirk yet somehow she still knew it was there from the barely suppressed amusement in his voice.

“You've got a hangover?”

“A little one,” she replied defensively. “Again, it's been a while.”

The knuckles of his fingers lightly drummed against her forehead.

“Hurts?”

“Yes it does, stop that,” she hissed and he snorted noisily into her hair.

“Hangover-Recovery-Day it is,” he finally said, carefully trying to hide the suppressed laughter from his voice, but she still heard it.

“So you agree to do Skaro another day?”

His caress stopped as his fingers froze for a moment, hovering over her skin, before he continued his movements a little clumsily.

“Skaro?”

“You wanted something from there,” she reminded him, sitting up again to face him with a frown. “For your weird evil plans you won't tell me about.”

He stared at her. The Doctor tried her hardest to read his expression, but there was nothing to see, just a blank, lightly startled face and then he shrugged in a motion that was supposed to be casual but seemed calculated.

“Eh, forget Skaro. Didn't really matter.”

“It didn't?” the Doctor asked.

That was... odd. No one went to Skaro for something that “didn't even matter”, not even someone as reckless as the Master.

“But...-”

He kissed her on the lips, gently, determinedly, then leaned back again to look into her eyes.

“I mean it. It doesn't matter.”  
  
The Doctor blinked and then a tentative smirk started building on her face, lightening up her face.

“You're dropping your evil plan for me?”

“I'm doing nothing of the sort!” he roared back, sounding not half as outraged as he was probably attempting to. “I am merely... changing plans. So to say.”

“Into not going to Skaro. Which is a planet you'd only go for something you can't get anywhere else in the first place. Sooooo...”  
  
“Oh, shut up.”

She hadn't wanted to shut up, had wanted to tease him mercilessly for at least two weeks, but he made her. His lips found hers again. pressing against her insistently and they were soft and warm and familiar and got hungrier and hungrier with every second she let the kiss go on. And all of a sudden the Doctor found herself turned onto her back, the Master above her, pressing her into the mattress with his body weight and his erection brushing against her and she forgot all about Skaro...

  
The Master turned out to be a bit of an expert on hangovers.

He knew exactly which teas would help soothe the nausea and the headache - And told her to make it herself.   
  
He knew exactly which planets to go to,, to get her the best greasy, salty hangover-food from – And even brought her some!

And he knew exactly that loud noises and glaring lights would make her flinch and moan in pain – Which was, _probably_ , why he doubled over with laughter everytime he'd made her flinch with intentional sudden bangs of his doors and gave his TARDIS telepathic commands to turn on the lights to the max at random.

All in all, he was an utter arse and she should really not spend the entire following evening with him curled up on a sofa, head resting on his chest while he read a silly book to her and gave every character distinctive and very dramatic voices, giggling her hearts out.

“How do you do it everytime?” she asked him on his tea break and the Master gave her a startled look.

“It's really not that difficult. All you need is a little control over your voice and...”  
She rolled her eyes.

“Not that. _That_.”

She waved her hands around herself then him and watched his brow furrow in confusion.

“What? You? Yearlong experience and a lot of stamina."

She sighed.

“Sucking me in. How do I always end up with you again and again, no matter what you do?”

The Master's face lit up and a smirk played around his lips.

“Doctor, I've known you your entire life, I just-”

The smile fell off his face as he stopped talking, his eyes widening in something that looked like shock and his expression turned stiff and pale.

The Doctor sat up quickly, facing him with what she knew was a look just as confused as his had been.

“What? What is it?”

“I've known you _my_ entire life,” he said, tonelessly, eyes stiffly staring at a spot right above her left shoulder.

Weird, the Doctor thought, how your whole life can fall apart and then you just forget about it, because you're so caught up in the things you've always known.

Weird, how she had watched this idiot crash and burn and stomp everything good about himself, only for her to end up here, on this little crammed sofa with him, finally getting what it had _really_ been about.

“Master...” she started but something on his face snapped and all of a sudden, he was climbing off the sofa from beside her, attempting to flee, a little “Whatever” on his lips and with more speed than she had thought her hangover-battered body had in it, she grabbed for his wrist and pulled him back.

“No, I need you to listen to me,” she said and, as if that would somehow keep him in place, climbed onto his lap to close her arms around his neck. He was staring away from her again, eyes fixed to some spot behind her and so the Doctor waited patiently, doing nothing but looking at him, assuring him she was staying right here and after a while, she felt his arms tentatively closing around her hips and his eyes settled on hers, looking troubled.

“I'm not sure I want to hear it,” he finally brought out and she smiled sadly, pressing a gentle, short kiss onto his lips.

“I need you to.”  
  
The Master let out a shaky sigh.

“Fine. Go on, then. Let's get this behind us.”

She let her arms sink slowly, taking both his hands into hers instead, thumbs running soothingly over the back of his hands.

“Nothing's gonna change.”

The Master's eyes widened visibly, then narrowed to tight little slits.

“What?”

There was suspicion in his voice. As if he thought she was going to throw him over, set him up, then tear down his hope and the Doctor felt a painful jab to her hearts at the sound of it.

“Nothing. Is. Going. To. Change.” She repeated, eyes seriously fixed to his. “I need you to understand this. This changes nothing. But about me. Not about you. Certainly not about us. We're who we've always been. I am who I've always been. There's more of me, apparently, somewhere down the road. That's all.”

“But-”

“No,” she interrupted him firmly. “There's no buts. There's no drama. There's no problem, no long lost memory that'll drive me down some road or remind me who I really am. I'm the Doctor. You're the Master. We're always going to be just that. Whatever that entails.” A little smile tugged at her lips. “It's a big mess without whatever you stumbled upon already.”

“I guess I just liked being your first. It felt like it... like it meant something. Even if anything else didn't, that was still...”

He interrupted himself, visibly swallowed after his own words and his eyes flinching down again.

The Doctor sighed.

“So that's what you're worried about, you old fool? I've had a string of friends longer than the string of chaos and destruction you've lost in your wake and somehow I still end up here, with you, every single time. Do you really think it matters if I get a few more friends to the mix? They're not here. Whoever they are or were, they're not here right now. You are. You've always been. Like the Athlete's foot of hell.”

“The... what now?” the Master asked and she could hear the tiniest spark of laughter caught in his voice.

“It's an Earth thing. Very aggressive foot fungus. Always returns, very hard to get rid of.”

“Charming, thanks.”

“My point is...”

He let out a breath and leant forwards until his forehead rested against hers, smiling cheekily – only a little of his earlier insecutity visible in the lines of his face.

“I got your point. It's okay. I'm okay. I think.”

“So, no innocent planets getting blown up anymore?” she asked and could watch his expression close off again immediately.

“Gallifrey was far from innocent.”

She shouldn't open this can of worms, the Doctor knew she shouldn't. They had just started to get along again. They had just started to have a nice time. But she could not not say it, could she? Who would she be if she let him feel like what he'd done was okay, for nothing but her personal comfort?

“There were more than enough innocent people on Gallifrey.”

As she had expected, he immediately shook her off him, backing away to the end of the sofa, face contorted with anger.

“Come on,” she sighed tiredly. “You cannot be surprised by me not approving. You already knew that. It's nothing new.”

“And yet you act shocked again and again when I destroy things,” he countered with a hiss.

She tried crawling towards him but he snarled at her and all of a sudden she was more aware of her headache again, throbbing away between her ears.

“You're right. But right now, we know who we are and we're still here. It worked, somehow. And we need it to work, because I've got no where else to go and...-”

“Right,” the Master shouted, jumping off the sofa now and towering above her, lips trembling with suppressed rage and his hands clenched to fists. “How could I forget. Thank you, Doctor, for your subtle reminder that you're only here because _you've got no where else to go_.”

“What?” she asked, staring after him for a second too long, as he swept out of the room and down the corridors, doors banging behind him everwhere he went.

“No,” she finally said into the quiet, suddenly glaringly illuminated room, feeling her lips go numb. “That's not what I meant.”


End file.
